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ODIN BIDS FAREWELL TO BRUNHILD BEFORE HE SURROUNDS HER BY A
BARRIER OF FIRE
From, the painting by Th. Pixis
"" See page 367

THE

BOOK OF THE EPIC

THE WORLD'S GREAT
EPICS TOLD IN STORY

BY

H. A. QUERBER

AUTHOR OF "MTTH8 OP OBEECEAND ROME," "MYTHS OF NORTHERN LANDS,"
" LEGENDS OF THE MIDDLE AGES," ETC.

WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY

J. BERG ESENWEIN, Litt. D.

WITH SIXTEEN ILLUSTRATIONS
FROM THE MASTERS OF PAINTING

PHILADELPHIA AND LONDON

J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY

1913

E,V.

OOPTHIGHT, 1913, BT J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANT

PUBLISHED NOVEMBER, 1913

FBINTED BT J. B. LIPPINOOTT COMPANY

AT THB WASHINGTON BQUARB PBBBS

PHILADELPHIA, V. B. A.

INTRODUCTION

Every now and tlien ia our reading we come suddenly
face to face with first things, — ^the very elemental sources
beyond which no maa may go. There is a distinct satis-
faction in dealing with such beginnings, and, when they
are those of literature, the sense of freshness is nothing
short of inspiring. To share the same lofty outlook, to
breathe the same high air with those who first sensed a
whole era of creative thoughts, is the next thing to being
the gods' chosen medium for those primal expressions.

All this is not to say that the epic is the oldest form of
literary expression, but it is the expression of the oldest
literary ideas, for, even when the epic is not at all primitive
in form, it deals essentially with elemental moods and
ideals. Epical poetry is poetic not because it is metrical
and conformative to rhythmical standards, — though it
usually is both, — ^but it is poetry because of the high
sweep of its emotional outlook, the bigness of its thought,
the untamed passion of its language, and the musical flow
of its utterance.

Here, then, we have a veritable source book of the
oldest ideas of the race; but not only that — ^we are also
led into the penetralia of the earliest thought of many
separate nations, for when the epic is national, it is true
ta the earliest genius of the people whose spirit it depicts.

To be sure, much of literature, and particularly the
literature of the epic, is true rather to the tone of a nation
than to its literal history — ^by which I mean that Achilles
was more really a Greek hero than any Greek who ever
lived, because he was the apotheosis of Greek chivalry, and
as such was the expression of the Greeks rather than
merely a Greek. The Iliad and the Odyssey are not merely
epics of Greece — ^they are Greek.

This is an age of story-telling. Never Tiefore has the

6 INTRODUCTION

world turned so attentively to the shorter forms of fiction.
Not only is this true of the printed short-story, of which
some thousands, more or less new, are issued every year in
English, but oral story-telling is taking its deserved place
in the school, the home, and among clubs specially organ-
ized for its cultivation. Teachers and parents must there-
fore be increasingly alert, not only to invent new stories,
but — ^this even chiefly — to familiarize themselves with the
oldest stories in the world.

So it is to such sources as these race-narratives that
all story-telling must come for recurrent inspirations. The
setting of each new story may be tinged with what wild
or sophisticated life soever, yet must the narrator find the
big, heart-swelling movements and passions and thraldoms
and conquests and sufferings and elations of mankind
stored in the great epics of the world.

It were a life-labor to become familiar with all of
these in their expressive originals; even in translation it
would be a titanic task to read each one. Therefore how
great is our indebtedness to the ripe scholarship and dis-
creet choice of the author of this "Book of the Epic" for
having brought to us not only the arguments but the very
spirit and flavor of aU this noble array. The task has
never before been essayed, and certainly, now that it
has been done for the first time, it is good to know that
it has been done surpassingly well.

To find the original story-expression of a nation's
myths, its legends, and its heroic creations is a high joy —
a face-to-faee interview with any great first-thing is a big
experience; but to come upon whole scores of undefiled
fountains is like multiplying the Pierian waters.

Even as all the epics herein collected in scenario were
epoch-making, so will the gathering of these side by side
prove to be. Literary judgments must be comparative,
and now we may place each epic in direct comparison with
any other, with a resultant light, both diffused and con-
centrated, for the benefit of both critics and the general
reader.

INTRODUCTION 7

The delights of conversation — so nearly, alas, a lost
art! — consist chiefly in the exchange of varied views on
single topics. So, when we note how the few primal story-
themes and plot developments of all time were handled by
those who first told the tales in literate form, the satis-
faction is proportionate.

One final word must be said regarding the interest of
epical material. Heretofore a knowledge of the epics —
save only a few of the better known — ^has been confined to
scholars, or, at most, students; but it may well be hoped
that the wide "perusal of this book may serve to show to
the general reader how fascinating a store of fiction may
be found in epics which have up till now been known to
him only by name.

J. Bbeg Esenwein

CONTENTS

PAGE
lUTBODtfCTION BY J. BeBG EsENWEIN 5

foeewobd 15

Gbbek Epics 17

The Iliad 20

The Odtsbbt 40

Latin Ewcb 63

The Abneid 64

Feench Epics 81

The Song op Roland 84

aucassin and nicolette 101

Spanish Epics 107

The Cro 108

PoKTUGCESE Epics 127

The Ltjsiad 127

Italian Epics r 137

DrviNE Comedy 139

The Inferno 139

pubgatoby 160

Pabadise 176

The Oblandos 189

GEBTJSAXiEMME LiBEBATA, OB JeBUSALEIiI DeLIVBBED 197

Epics op the Bbitish Isles 214

Beowulf 222

The Abthubian Cycle 229

Robin Hood 243

— ~*Thb Faeme Queene 255

PAT.AnTnii-. Lost 288

Pabadise Regained 313

9

10 CONTENTS

Gekuan Epics 323

The Nibelungenlied 328

Stobt of the Hoi/T Geail 346

Epics op the Netherlands 356

Scandinavian Epics 360

The Volsunoa Saoa 362

Russian and Finnish Epics 372

The Kalevala, oh the Land op Heroes 373

Epics op Centkal Europe and op the Balkan Peninsula 392

Hebrew and Early Christian Epics 395

Arabian and Persian Epics 397

The Shah-Nameh, or Epic of Kings 398

Indian Epics 415

The Ramatana 416

The Mahabharata 431

Chinese and Japanese Poetry 456

American Epics 464

Index 471

ILLUSTRATIONS

FAGB

Odin Bids Farewell to Brunhild before He Surrounds Her by a
Barrier of Fire Frcmtispiece

From the painting by Th. Pixis
Oedipus Solving the Sphinx's Riddle 19

From the painting by Ingres
Achilles Disguised as a Girl Testing the Sword in Ulysses' Pack 21

From the painting by Battoni
Circe and Ulysses' Companions Turned into Swine 51

By L. Chalon
Venus Meeting Aeneas and Achates Near Carthage 65

From the painting by Cortona
Roland at Roncesvaux 92

From the painting by L. F. Chiesnet
The Palace Where Inez de Castro lived and was Murdered. . 132
Dante Interviewing Hugues Capet 170

From an Ulustraiion by R. Galli
Hermione Finds Tancred Wounded 212

From the painting by Nicolas Poussin
The Body of Elaine on its Way to King Arthur's Palace 236

By Oustave DorS

Una and the Red Cross Knight 256

From the painting by George Frederick Watts

The Heralds Summon Lucifer's Host to a Council at Pande-
monium 289

By Gustave Dori
The Dead Sigfried Borne Back to Worms 336

From the painting by Th. Pixis
St. John the Evangelist at Patmos Writing the Apocalypse 396

From the painting by Correggio
Sita Soothing Rama to Sleep 429

From a Calaiita print
The Monk Breaks into the Robbers' House to Rescue White

Aster 460

From a Japanese print

"It is in this vast, dim region of mtth and

LEGEND THE B0T7BCES OF THE LITERATITHE OF
MODERN TIMES ARE HIDDEN; AND IT IS ONLY
BT RETTTBNING TO THEM, BY CONSTANT RE-
MEMBRANCE THAT THEY DRAIN A VAST REGION
OF VITAL HUMAN EXPEBIENCB, THAT TEIB ORIGIN
AND EARLY DIRECTION OF THAT LITERATURE CAN

BE EECALLED."— Hamilton Wright Mabie.

FOREWORD

Derived from the Greek epos, a saying or oracle, the
term "epic" is generally given to some form of heroic
narrative wherein tragedy, comedy, lyric, dirge, and idyl
are skilfully blended to form an immortal vrork.

"Mythology, which was the interpretation of nature,
and legend, whioh is the idealization of history," are the
main elements of the epic. Being the "living history of
the people," an epic should have "the breadth and volume
of a river." All epics have therefore generally been "the
first-fruits of the earliest experience of nature and life on
the part of imaginative races"; and the real poet has been,
as a rule, the race itself.

There are ahnost as many definitions of an epic and
rules for its composition as there are nations and poets.
For that reason, instead of selecting only such works as
in the writer's opinion can justly claim the title of epic,
each nation's verdict has been accepted, without question,
in regard to its national work of this class, be it in verse
or prose.

The following pages therefore contain almost every
variety of epic, from that which treats of the deity in
dignified hexameters, strictly conforms to the rule "one
hero, one time, and one action of many parts," and has
"the massiveness and dignity of sculpture," to the simplest
idyls, such as the Japanese "White Aster," or that ex-
quisite French mediaeval compound of poetry and prose,
"Aueassin et Nieolette." Not only are both Christian
and pagan epics impartially admitted in this volume, but
the representative works of each nation in the epic field
are grouped, according to the languages in which they
were com|>osed.

Many of the ancient epics are so voluminous that even
one of them printed in full would fill twenty-four volumes

15

16 FOREWORD

as large as this. To give even the barest outline of one
or two poems in each language has therefore required the
utmost condensation. So, only the barest outline figures
in these pages, and, although the temptation to quote
many choice passages has been well-nigh irresistible, space
has precluded all save the scantiest quotations.

The main object of this volume consists in outlining
clearly and briefly, for the use of young students or of
the busy general reader, the principal examples of the
time-honored stories which have inspired our greatest poets
and supplied endless material to painters, sculptors, and
musicians ever since art began.

THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

GREEK EPICS

The greatest of all the world's epics, the Iliad and the
Odyssey, are attributed to Homer, or Melesigenes, who is
isaid to have lived some time between 1050 and 850 B.C.
Ever since the second century before Christ, however, the
question whether Homer is the originator of the poems, or
whether, like the Ehapsodists, he merely recited extant
verses, has been hotly disputed.

The events upon which the Iliad is based took place
some time before 1100 B.C., and we are told the poems
of Homer were collected and committed to writing by
Pisistratus during the age of Epic Poetry, or second age
of Greek literature, which ends 600 B.C.

It stands to reason that the Iliad must have been in-
spired by or at least based upon previous poems, since
such perfection is not achieved at a single bound. Besides,
we are aware of the existence of many shorter Greek epics,
which have either been entirely lost or of whioh we now
possess only fragments.

A number of these ancient epics form what is termed
the Trojan Cycle, because all relate in some way to the
"War of Troy. Among them is the Cypria, in eleven books,
by Stasimus of Cyprus (or by Arctinus of Miletus),
wherdn is related Jupiter's frustrated wooing of Thetis,
her marriage with Peleus, the episode of the golden apple,
the judgment of Paris, the kidnapping of Helen, the
mustering of the Greek forces, and the main events of the
first nine years of the Trojan War. The Iliad (of which a
synopsis is given) follows tiiis epic, taking up the story
where the wrath of Achilles is aroused and ending it witii
the funeral of Hector.

This, however, does not conclude the story of the
Trojan War, which ia resumed in the "Aethiopia," in five
2 17

18 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

books, by Arctinus of Miletus. After describing the
arrival of Penthesilea, Queen of the Amazons, to aid the
Trojans, the poet relates her death at the hand of Achilles,
who, in hia turn, is slain by Apollo and Paris. This epic
concludes with the famous dispute between Ajax and
Ulysses for the possession of Achilles' armor.

The Little Iliad, whose authorship is ascribed to sundry
poets, including Homer, next describes the madness and
death of Ajax, the arrival of Philoctetes with the arrows
of Hercules, the death of Paris, the purloining of the
Palladium, the stratagem of the wooden horse, and the
death of Priam.

In the Ilion Persis, or Sack of Troy, by Arctinus, in
two books, we find the Trojans hesitating whether to con-
vey the wooden steed into their city, and discover the
immortal tales of the traitor Sinon and that of Laocoon.
We then behold the taking and sacking of the city, with
the massacre of the men and the carrying off into captivity
of the women.

In the Nostroi, or Homeward Voyage, by Agias of
Troezene, the Atridae differ in opinion; so, while Aga-
memnon delays his departure to offer propitiatory sacri-
fices, Menelaus sets sail for Egypt, where he is detained.
This poem also contains the narrative of Agamemnon's
return, of his assassination, and of the way in which his
death was avenged by his son Orestes.

Next in sequence of events comes the Odyssey of
Homer (of which a complete synopsis follows), and then
the Telegonia of Eugammon of Cyrene, in two books. This
describes how, after the burial of the suitors, Ulysses re-
news his adventures, and visits Thesprotia, where he
marries and leaves a son. We also have his death, a
battle between two of his sons, and the marriage of
Telemachus and Circe, as well as that of the widowed
Penelope to Telegonus, one of Ulysses' descendants.

Another sequel, or addition to the Odyssey, is found
in the Telemachia, also a Greek poem, as well as in a far
more modem work, the French classic, T616maque, written

OEDIPUS SOLVING THE SPHINX's KIDDLE
From the painting by Ingres

GREEK EPICS 19

by Penelon for his pupil the Dauphin, in the age of
Louis XIV.

Another great series of Greek poems is the Thebaa
Cycle, which comprises the Thebais, by some unknown
author, wherein is related in full the story of Oedipus, that
of the Seven Kings before Thebes, and the doings of the
Epigoni.

There exisb also cyclic poems in regard to the labors of
Heracles, among others one called Oechalia, which has
proved a priceless mine for poets, dramatists, painters,
and sculptors.*

In the Alexandra by Lycophron (270 B.C.), and in a
similar poem by Quintns Smymaeus, in fourteen books,
we find tedious sequels to the Iliad, wherein Alexander
is represented as a descendant of Achilles. Indeed, the
life and death of Alexander the Great are also the source
of innumerable epics, as well as of romances in Greek,
Latin, French, German, and English. The majority of
these are based upon the epic of Oallisthenes, 110 A.D.,
wherein an attempt was made to prove that Alexander
descended directly from the Egyptian god Jupiter Ammon
or, at least, from his priest Neetanebus.

Besides being told in innumerable Greek versions, the
tale of Troy has frequently been repeated in Latin, and
it enjoyed immense popularity all throughout Europe in
the Middle Ages. It was, however, most beloved in France,
where Benoit de St. Maur's interminable "Roman de
Troie," as well as his "Roman d 'Alexandre," greatly de-
lighted the lords and ladies of his time.

Bemdes the works based on the story of Troy or on
the adventures of Alexander, we have in Greek the
Thec^ony of Hesiod in some 1022 lines, a miniature Greek
mythology, giving the story of the origin and the doings
of the Greek gods, as well as the Greek theory in regard
to the creation of the world.

*A detailed account of Oedipus, Heracles, the Argonauts, and
the " War of Troy " is given in the author's " Myths of Greece and
Rome."

20 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

Among later Greek works we must also note the Shield
of Heracles and the Eoiae. or Catalogue of the Boetian
heroines who gave birth to demi-gods or herora.

In 194 B.C. Apollonius Rhodius at Alexandria wrote
the Argonautica, in four books, wherein he rela,tes the
adventures of Jason in quest of the golden fleece. This
epic was received so coldly that the poet, in disgust, with-
drew to Ehodes, where, having remodelled his work, he
obtained immense applause.

The principal burlesque epic in Greek, the Bactracho-
myomachia, or Battle of Frogs and Mice, is attributed to
Homer, but only some 300 lines of this work remain, show-
ing what it may have been.

THE ILIAD

Introduction. Jupiter, king of the gods, refrained from
an alliance with Thetis, a sea divinity, because he was told
her son would be greater than his father. To console her,
however, he decreed that all the gods should attend her
nuptials with Peleus, King of Thessaly. At this wedding
banquet the Goddess of Discord produced a golden apple,
inscribed "To the fairest," which Juno, Minerva, and
Venus claimed.

Because the gods refused to act as umpires in this
quarrel, Paris, son of the King of Troy, was chosen. As
an oracle had predicted before his birth that he would
cause the ruin of his dty, Paris was abandoned on a
mountain to perish, but was rescued by kindly shepherds.

On hearing Juno offer him worldly jwwer, Minerva
boundless wisdom, and Venus th6 most beautiful wife in
the world, Paris bestowed the prize of beauty upon Venus.
She, therefore, bade him return to Troy, where his family
was ready to welcome him, and sail tiience to Greece to
kidnap Helen, daughter of Jupiter and Leda and wife of
Menelaus, King of Sparta. So potent were this lady's
charms that her step-father had made all her suitors'
swear never to carry her away from her husband, and to
aid in her recovery should she ever be kidnapped.

ACHILLES DISGUISED AS A GIRL TESTING THE SWORD IN TJLYSSES' PACK
Ftotti the 'painting by Battoni

THE ILIAD 21

Shortly after his arrival at Sparta and during a brief
absence of its king, Paris induced Helen to elope with him.
On his return the outraged husband summoned the suitors
to redeem their pledge, and collected a huge force at
Aulis, where Agamemnon his brother became leader of the
expedition. Such was the popularity of this war that even
heroes who had taken no oath were anxious to make part
of the punitive expedition, the most famous of these war-
riors being AchiUes, son of Thetis and Pelei^.

After many adventures tke Greeks, landing on the
shores of Asia, began besieging the city, from whose
liimparts Helen watched her husband and his allies meas-
ure their strength against the Trojans. Such was the
bravery displayed on both sides that the war raged nine
years without any decisive advantage being obtained. At
the end of this period, during a raid, the Greeks secured
two female captives, which were awarded to Agamemnon
and to Achilles in recognition of past services.

Although the above events are treated in sundry other
Greek poems and epies,^ — ^which' no longer exist entire^ but
form part of a cycle, — ^"The Iliad," accredited to Homer,
takes up the story at this point, and relates the wrath of
Achilles, together with the happenings of some fifty days
in the ninth year.

Booh I. After invoking the Muse to aid hiTn sing the"
•wrath of Achilles, the poet relates how Apollo's priest
came in person to the Greek camp to ransom his captive
daughter, only to be treated with contumely by Aga-
memnon. In his indignation this priest besought Apollo
to send down a plague to decimate the foe's forces, and
the Greeks soon learned from their oracles that its ravages
would not cease until the maiden was restored to her
father.

Nor will the god's awaken'd fury cease,

But plagues shall spread, and funeral fires increase,

Till the great king, without a ransom paid,

To her own Chrysa send the black-eyed maid."

= AU the quotations from the Iliad are taken from Pope's trans-
lation.

22 THE BOOK OP THE EPIC

In a formal council Agamemnon is therefore asked to
relinquish his captive, but violently declares that he will
do so only in ease he receives Achilles' slave. This in-
solent claim so infuriates the young hero that he is about
to draw his sword, when Minerva, unseen by the rest,
bids him hold his hand, and state that should Agamemnon's
threat be carried out he will withdraw from the war.

Although the aged Nestor employs all his honeyed
eloquence to soothe this quarrel, both chiefs angrily with-
draw, Agamemnon to send his captive back to her father,
and Achilles to sulk in his tent.

It is while he is thus engaged that Agamemnon's
heralds appear and lead away his captive. Mindful of
Minerva's injunctions, Achilles allows her to depart, but
registers a solemn oath that, even were the Greeks to
perish, he will lend them no aid. Then, strolling down
to the shore, he summons his mother from the watery deep,
and implores her to use her influence to avenge his wrongs.
Knowing his life will prove short though glorious, Thetis
promises to visit Jupiter on Olympus in his behalf. There
she wins from the Father of the Gods a promise that the
Greeks will suffer defeat as long as her son does not fight
in their ranks, — a promise confirmed by his divine nod.
This, however, arouses the wrath and jealousy of Juno,
whom Jupiter is compelled to chide so severely that peace
and harmony are restored ia Olympus only when Vulcan,
acting as cup-bearer, rouses the inextinguishable laughter
of the gods by his awkward limp.

Book II. That night, while all are sleeping, Zeus
sends a deceptive dream to Agamemnon to suggest the
moment has come to attack Troy. At dawn, therefore,
Agamemnon calls an assembly, and the chiefs decide to
test the mettle of the Greeks by ordering a return home,
and, in the midst of these preparations, summoning the
men to fight.

These signs of imminent departure incense Juno and
Minerva, who, ever since the golden apple was bestowed
upon Venus, are sworn foes of Paris and Troy. In dis-

THE ILIAD 23

guise, therefore, Minerva urges Ulysses, wiliest of the
Greeks, to silence the clown Thersites, and admonish his
companions that if they return home empty-handed they
wiU be disgraced. Only too pleased, Ulysses reminds his
countrymen how, just before they left home, a serpent
crawled from beneath the altar and devoured eight young
sparrows and the mother who tried to defend them, add-
ing that this was an omen that for nine years they would
vainly besiege Troy but would triumph in the tenth.

His eloquent reminder, reinforced by patriotic speeches
from Nestor and Agamemnon, determines the Greeks to
attempt a final attack upon Troy. So, with the speed
and destructive fury of a furious fire, the Greek army,
whose forces and leaders are all named, sweeps on toward
Troy, where Iris has flown to warn the Trojans of their
approach.

As on some mountain, through the loffy grove
The crackling flames ascend and hlaze above;
The fires expanding, as the winds arise,
Shoot their long beams and kindle half the skies:
So from the polish'd arms and brazen shields
A gleamy splendor flash'd along the fields.

It is in the form of one of Priam 'a sons that this divinity
enters the palace, where, as soon as Hector hears the
news, he musters Ms warriors, most conspicuous among
whom are his brother Paris, and Aeneas, son of Venus
and Anchises.

Book III. Both armies now advance toward each
other, the Trojans uttering shrill cries like migratory
cranes, while the Greeks maintain an impressive silence.
When near enough to recognize his wife's seducer, Mene-
laus rushes forward to attack Paris, who, terrified, takes
refuge in the ranks of the Trojan host. So cowardly a
retreat, however, causes Hector to express the bitter wish
that his brother had died before bringing disgrace upon
Troy. Although conscious of deserving reproof, Paris,
after reminding his brother all men are not constituted
alike, offers to redeem his honor by fighting Menelaus,

24 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

provided Helen and lier treasures are awarded to the
victor. This proposal proves so welcome, that Hector
checks the advance of his men and proposes this duel
to the Greeks, who accept his terms, provided Priam will
swear in person to,,J^ treaty.

Meanwhile ^3ns," in ^ise of a princess, has entered the
Trojan palace and bidden Helen hasten to the ramparts
to see the two armies — ^instead of fighting — offering sacri-
fices as a preliminary to the duel, of which she is to be the
prize. Donning a veil and summoning her attendants,
Helen seeks the place whence Priam and his ancient coun-
sellors gaze down upon the plain. On beholding her, even
these aged men admit the two nations are excusable for
so savagely disputing her possession, while Priam, with
fatherly tact, ascribes the war to the gods alone.

These, when the Spartan queen approach'd the tower.
In secret own'd resistless beauty's power:
They cried, " No wonder such celestial charms
For nine long years have set the world in arms;
What winning grace! what majestic mien!
She moves a goddess and she looks a. queen! "

Then he invites Helen to sit beside him and name the
Greeks he points out, among whom she recognizes, with
bitter shame,, her brother-in-law Agamemnon, Ulysses the
wily, and Agax the bulwark of Greece. Then, while she
is vainly seeking the forms of her twin brothers, mes-
sengers summon Priam down to the plain' to swear to
the treaty, a task he has no sooner performed than he
drives back to Troy, leaving Hector and Ulysses to meas-
ure out the duelling ground and to settle by lot which
champion shall strike first.

Fate having favored Paris, he advances in brilliant
array, and soon contrives to shatter Menelaus' sword.
Thus deprived of a weapon, Menelaus boldly grasps his
adversary by his plumed helmet and drags him away,
until, seeing her protege in danger, Venus breaks the
fastenings of his helmet, which alone remains in Menelaus'
hands. Then she spirits Paris hack to the Trojan palace.

THE ILIAD ' 25

where she leaves him resting on a CQueh, and hurries off,
ia the guise of an old crone, to twitch Helen's veil, whis-
pering that Paris awaits her at home. Recognizing the
goddess in spite of her disguise, Helen reproaches her,
declaring she has no desire ever to see Paris again, but
Venus, awing Helen into submission, leads her back to the
palace. ThereJ^ris, after artfully ascribing Menelaus'
triumph to Mm^ro's aid, proceeds to woo Helen anew.
Meantime Menelaus vainly ranges to and fro, seeking his
foe and hotly accusing the Trojans of screening him, while
Agamemnon clamors for the immediate surrender of Helen,
saying the Greeks have won.

Booh IV. The gods on Mount Olympus, who have
witnessed all, now taunt each other with abetting the
Trojans or Greeks, as the case may be^i-LMter this quarrel
has raged some time, Jupiter bids Mmerva go down and
violate the truce ; so, in the guise of a warrior, she prompts
a Trojan archer to aim at Menelaus a dart which pro-
duces a nominal wound. This is enough, however, to
excite Agamemnon to avenge the broken treaty. A moment
later the Greek phalanx advances, urged on by Minerva,
while the Trojans, equally inspired by Mars, rush to meet
them' with similar fury. Streams of blood now flow, the
earth trembles beneath the crash of falling warriors, and
the roll of war chariots is like thunder. Although it seems
for a while as if the Greeks are gaining the advantage,
Apollo spurs the Trojans; to new efforts by reminding them
that Achilles, their most dreaded foe, is absent.

Booh V. Seeing the battle well under way, Minerva
now drags Mars out of the fray, suggesting that mortals
settle their quarrel unaided. Countless duels now occur,
many lives are lost, and sundry miracles are performed.\
Diomedes, for instance, being instantly healed of a griev-
ous wound by Minerva, plunges back into the fray and
fights until Aeneas bids' an archer check his destructive
career. But this man is slain before he can obey, and ,
J^S^ himself would have been killed by Diomedes had
not Venus snatched him away from the battle-field. While

26 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

she does this, Diomedes wounds her in the hand, causing

her to drop her son, whom Apollo rescues, while she

hastens off to obtain from Mars the loan of his chariot,

wherein to drive back to Olympus. There, on her mother's

breast, Venus sobs out the tale of her fright, and, when

healed, is sarcastically advised to leave fighting to the

other gods and busy herself only with the pleasures of

love.

"the sire of gods and men superior smiled.
And, calling Venus, thus address'd his child:
" Not these, 0 daughter, are thy proper cares.
Thee milder arts befit, and softer wars;
Sweet smiles are thine, and kind endearing charms;
To Mars and Pallas leave the deeds of arms."

Having enatehed Aeneas out of danger, Apollo con-
veys him to Pergamus to be healed, leaving on the battle-
field in his stead a phantom to represent him. Then Apollo
challenges Mars to avenge Venus' wound, and the fray
which ensues becomes so bloody that "Homeric battle"
has been ever since the accepted term for fierce fighting.
It is because Mars and Bellona protect Hector that the
Trojans now gain some advantage, seeing which, Juno
and Minerva hasten to the rescue of the Greeks. Arriving
on the battle-field, Juno, assuming the form of Stentor
(whose brazen tones have become proverbial), directs the
Greek onslaught.^ Meanwhile, instigated by Minerva,
Diomedes attacks Mars^who, receiving a wound, emits such
ja. roar of pain that both armies shudder. Then he too is
/miraculously conveyed to Olympus, where, after exhibit-
ving his wound, he denounces Minerva who caused it. But,
although Jupiter sternly rebukes his son, he takes such
prompt measures to relieve his suffering, that Mars is soon
seated at the Olympian board, where before long he is
joined by Juno and Minerva.

Book VI. Meanwhile the battle rages, and in the
midst of broken chariots, flying steeds, and clouds of dust,
we descry Menelaus and Agamemnon doing wonders and
hear Nestor cheering on the Greeks. The Trojans are
about to yield before their onslaught, when a warrior

THE ILIAD 27

warns Hector, and the just returned Aeneas, of their
dire peril. After conferring hastily with his friends,
Hector returns to Troy to direct the women to implore
Minerva's favor, while Aeneas goes to support their men.
At the Scaean Gate, Hector meets the mothers, wives, and
daughters of the combatants, who, at his suggestion, gladly
prepare costly offerings to be borne to Minerva's temple
in solemn procession.

Then Hector himself rushes to the palace, where, re-
fusing all refreshment, he goes in quest of Paris, whom
he finds in the company of Helen and her maids, idly
polishing his armor. Indignantly Hector informs his
brother the Trojans are perishdng without the walls in\
defence of the quarrel he kindled, but which he is too J
cowardly to uphold! Although admitting he deserves re|
proaches, Paris declares he is about to return to the
battle-field, for Helen has just rekindled all his ardor.
Seeing Hector does not answer, Helen timidly expresses
her regret at having caused these woes, bitterly wishing
fate had bound her to a man noble enough to feel and
resent an insult. With a curt recommendation to send
Paris after him as soon as possible. Hector hastens off to
his own dwelling, for he longs to embrace his wife and
son, perhaps for the last time.

There he finds none but the servants at home, who
inform him that his wife has gone to the watch-tower,
whither he now hastens. The meeting between Hector and
Andromache, her tender reproaches at the risks he nms,
and her passionate reminder that since Achilles deprived
her of her kin he is her sole protector, form the most
touching passage in the Iliad. Gently renundrng heFhe
muiF~go~where~Emor calls, and sadly admitting he is
haunted by visions of fallen Troy and of her plight as
captive. Hector adds that to protect her from such a fate
he must fight. But when he holds out his arms to his
child, the little one, terrified by the plumes on his helmet,
refuses to come to him until he lays it aside. Having em-
braced his infant son. Hector fervently prays he may grow

:]

28 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

up to defend the Trojans, ere he hands him back to
Andromache, from whom he also takes tender leave.

Thus having spoke, the illustrious chief of Troy
Stretch'd his fond arms to clasp the lovely boy.
The habe clung crying to his nurse's breast,
Scared at the dazzling helm and nodding crest.
With secret pleasure each fond parent smiled
And Hector hasted to relieve his child.
The glittering terrors from his brows unbound.
And placed the beaming helmet on the ground;
Then kiss'd the child, and, lifting high in air,
Thus to the gods preferr'd a father's prayer:
" O thou ! whose glory fills the ethereal throne.
And all ye deathless powers! protect my son!
(irant him, like me, to purchase just renown.
To guard the Trojans, to defend the crown.
Against his country's foes the war to wage.
And rise the Hector of the future age!
So when triumphant from successful toils
Of heroes slain he bears the reeking spoils.
Whole hosts may hail him with deserved acclaim,
And say, ' This chief transcends his father's fame : '
While pleased amidst the general shouts of Troy,
His mother's conscious heart o'erflows with joy."

Then, resuming his helmet, Heetor drives out of the Seaean
Gate and is joined by his brother Paris, now full of
ambition to fight.

Booh VII. Joyfully the Trojans hail the arrival of
both brothers, before whose fierce onslaught the Greeks
soon fall back in their turn. Meanwhile Minerva and
Apollo, siding with opposite forces, decide to inspire the
Trojans to challenge the Greeks to a single fight, and,
after doing this, perch upon a tree, in the guise of vul-
tures, to watch the result. Calling for a suspension of
hostilities, Heetor dares any Greek to fight him, stipulat-
ing that the arms of the vanquished shall be the victor's
prize, but that his remains shall receive honorable burial.

Conscious that none of their warriors — save Achilles

match Hector, the Greeks at first hesitate, but, among the
nine who finally volunteer, Ajax is chosen by lot to be
the Greek champion. Overjoyed at this opportunity to
distinguish himself, Ajax advances with boastful con-

THE ILIAD 29

fidence to meet Hector, who, undismayed by his size and
truculent speeches, enters into the fight. The duel is,
however, not fought to a finish, for the heralds interrupt
it at nightfall, pronouncing the champions equal in
strength and skill and postponing its issue until the
morrow.

In his elation Ajax offers thanks to Jupiter before
attending a baaquet, where Nestor prudently advises his
friends to fortify their camp by erecting earthworks.
While the Greeks are feasting, the Trojans debate whether
it would not be wise to apologize for the broken truce and
restore Helen and her treasures to the Greeks. But this
suggestion is so angrily rejected by Paris that Priam
suggests they propose instead an armistice of sufSdent
length to enable both parties to bury their dead.

At dawn, therefore, Trojan heralds visit Agamemnon's
tent to propose a truce, and offer any indemnification save
Helen's return. But, although the Greeks consent to an
armistice, they feel so confident of success that they re-
fuse all- offers of indemnity. Both parties now bury their
dead, a sight witnessed by the gods, who, gazing down
from Olympus, become aware of the earthen ramparts
erected during the night to protect the Greek fleet. This
sight prompts Neptune to express jealous feais lest these
may eclipse the walls he built around Troy, but Jupiter
pacifies bim by assuring him he can easily bury them be-
neath the sand as soon as the war is over.

Booh VIII. At daybreak Jupiter summons the gods,
forbidding them to lend aid to eitibier party, under penalty
of perpetual imprisonment in Tartarus. Having decreed'
this, Jupiter betakes himself to Mount Ida, whence he
proposes to watch aU that is going on. It is there, at
noon, that he takes out his golden balances, and places in
opposite scales the fates of Troy and Greece. A moments
later a loud clap of thunder proclaims the day's advantage 1
will remain with the Trojans, whose leader. Hector, is'
protected by Jupiter's thunderbolts each time that
Diomedes attacks him. This manifestation of divine favor

30 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

strikes terror in the hearts of the Greeks, but encourages
the Trojans. They, therefore, hotly pursue the Greeks to
their ramparts, which Hector urges them to scale when
the foe seeks refuge behind them.

Seeing the peril' of the Greeks, Juno urges Agamemnon
to- visit Ulysses' tent, and there proclaim, in such loud
tones that Achilles cannot fail to overhear him, that their
vessels will soon be in flames. Then, fearing for his com-
panions, Agamemnon prays so fervently for aid that an
eagle flies over the camp and drops a lamb upon the
Greek altar. This omen of good fortune renews the cour-
age of the Greeks, and stimulates the archer Teucer to
cause new havoc in the Trojan ranks with his unfailing
arrows, until Hector hurls a rock, which lays him low, and
rushes into the Greek camp. Jje^^^,-^ (^^-..

Full of anxiety for their proteges, Juno and Minerva
forget Jupiter's injunctions, and are about to hurry off
to their rescue, when the king of the gods bids them
stop, assuring them the Greeks will suffer defeat, untU,
Patroclus having fallen, Achilles arises to avenge him.
When the setting sun signals the close of the day's fight,
although the Greefe are still in possession of their tents,
the Trojans bivouac Jn the plain, just outside the trench,
to prevent their escape.

Book IX. Such anxiety reigns in the Greek camp that
Agamemnon holds a council in his tent. There, almost
choked by tears, he declares no alternative remains save
flight, but Diomedes so hotly contradicts him that the
Greeks decide to remain. At Nestor's suggestion, Aga-
memnon then tries to atone for his insult to Achilles by
gifts and apologies, instructing the bearers to promise the
return of the captive and to offer an alliance with one of
Ms daughters, if Achilles will only come to their aid.
Wending their way through the moonlit camp, these emis-
saries find Achilles idly listening to Patroclus' music.
After delivering the message, Ulysses makes an eloquent
appeal in behalf of his countrymen, but Achilles coldly
rejoins the Greeks will have to defend themselves as he is

THE ILIAD 31

about to depart. Such is his resentment that he refuses
to forgive Agamemnon, although his aged tutor urges him
to be brave enough to conquer himself. Most reluctantly
therefore Ulysses and Ajax return, and, although sleep
hovers over Achilles' tent, dismay reigns within that of
Agamemnon, until Diomedes vows they will yet prove
they do not need Achilles' aid.

Book X. Exhausted by the day's efforts, most of the
Greeks have fallen asleep, when Agamemnon, after con-
versing for a while with Menelaus, arouses Nestor, Ulysses,
and Diomedes to inspect their posts. It is in the course
of these rounds that Nestor suggests' one of their number
steal into the Trojan camp to discover their plans. This
suggestion is eagerly seized by Diomedes and Ulysses, who,
on their way to the enemy's camp, encounter Dolon, a
Trojan spy, who is coming to find out what they are
planning. Crouching among the corpses, Diomedes and
Ulysses capture this man, from whom they wring all the
information they, require, together with exact diregi
to find the steeds of Rhesus. To secure this prize, Ulyi
and Diomedes steal into the Trojan camp, where, after
slaying a few sleepers, they capture the steeds and escape
in safety, thanks to Minerva's aid. On seeing his friends
emerge from the gloom with so glorious a prize, Nestor,
who has been anxiously watching, expresses great joy, and
invites his companions to refresh themselves after their
exertions.

Old Nestor first perceived the approaching sound,
Bespeaking thus the Grecian peers around:
"Methinks the noise of trampling steeds I hear,
Thickening this way, and gathering on my ear;
Perhaps some horses of the Trojan breed
(So may, ye gods! my pious hopes succeed)
The great lydides and Ulysses bear,
Betum'd triumphant with this prize of war."

BooTt XI. At daybreak Jupiter sends Discord to waken
the Greeks and, when they appear in battle array, hurls a
thunder-bolt as a signal for the fight to begin. Stimulated

32 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

by Hector's ardor, the Trojans now pounce like ravening
wolves upon their foes, but, in spite of their courage, are
driven back almost to the Scean Gate. To encourage
Hector, however, Jupiter warns him, that once Agamem-
non is wounded the tide will turn. Soon after, a javelin
strikes Agamemnon, and Hector, seeing him borne to his
\tent, urges his men on with new vehemence until he
forces back the Greeks in his turn. In the ensuing medley
both Diomedes and Uly^es are wounded, and Achilles,
moodily lounging on the prow of his ship, sees Nestor
bring them into camp. Wishing to ascertain who has been
hurt, he sends Patroclus to find out. Thus this warrior
learns how many of the Greeks are wounded, and is per-
suaded to try to induce Achilles to assist their country-
men, or at least to allow his friend to lead his forces to
their rescue.

Book XII. Although the Trojans are now fiercely try-
ing to enter the Greek camp, their efforts are baffled until
Hector, dismounting from his chariot, attacks the mighty
wall which the gods are to level as soon as the war is over.
Thanks to his efforts, its gates are battered in, and the
Trojans pour into the Greek camp, where many duels
occur, and where countless warriors are slain on both

Book XIII. Having effected an entrance into the
camp, the Trojans rush forward to set fire to the ships,
hoping thus to prevent the escape of their foes. Perceiv-
ing the peril of the Greeks, Neptune, in the guise of a
priest, urges them to stand fast.

Then with his sceptre, that the deep controls,

He touched the chiefs and steel'd their manly souls:

Strength, not their own, the touch divine imparts,

Prompts their light limbs, and swells their daring hearts.

Then, as a falcon from the rooky height,

Her quarry seen, impetuous at the sight,

forth-springing instant, darts herself from high,

Shoots on the wing, and skims along the sky:

Such, and so swift, the power of ocean flew;

The wide horizon sliut him from their view.

THE ILIAD 33

But the advaxLtage does not remain continuously with
the Trojans, for Hector is soon beaten back, and, seeing
his people's peril, again hotly reviles Paris, whose crime
has entailed all this bloodshed.

Booh XIV. In the midst of the gloom caused by a
new irruption of the Trojans in the Greek camp, Nestor
hastens to the spot where the wounded Agamemnon,
Ulysses, and Diomedes are watching the fight. But,
although Agamemnon renews his former suggestion that
they depart, Diomedes and Ulysses, scorning it, prepare
to return to the fray, in spite of their wounds. This re-
newal of Greek courage pleases Juno, who, fearing
Jupiter will again interfere in behalf of the Trojans,
proceeds by coquettish wiles and with the aid of the God
of Sleep to lull him into a state of forgetfulness. This
feat accomplished, Juno sends Sleep to urge the Greeks
to make the most of this respite, and, thus stimulat^,
they fight on, until Ajax hurls a rock which lays Hector)
low. But, before he and his companions can secure this
victim. Hector is rescued by his men, who speedily con-
vey him to the river, where plentiful bathing soon restores
his senses.

Book XV. Thus temporarily deprived of a leader, the
Trojans fall back to the place where they left their
chariots. They are just mounting in confusion in order
to flee, when Jupiter, rousing from his nap, and realizing
how he has been tricked, discharges his wrath upon Juno's
head. Hearing her attribute the blame to Neptune, Jupiter
wrathfuUy orders his brother back to his realm and de-
spatches Apollo to cure Hector. Then he reiterates that\
the Greeks shall be worsted until Patroclus, wearing!
AchiUes' armor, takes part in the fray. He adds that/
after slaying his son Sarpedon, this hero will suceumb\
beneath Hector's sword, and that, to avenge Patroclus'
death, Achilles will slay Hector and thus insure the fall
of Troy.

Once more the Trojans drive back the Greeks, who
would have given up in despair had not Jupiter eneour-

3

S4 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

aged them by a clap of thunder. Hearing the Trojans
again burst into camp, Patroclus rushes out of Achilles'
tent and sees Teucer winging one deadly arrow after
another among the foe. But, in spite of his skiU, and
although Ajax fights like a lion at bay, Hector and the
Trojans press fiercely forward, torch in hand, to fire the
|Greek ships.

(. Book XVI. Appalled by this sight, Patrodus rushes
back to AchiUes, and, after vainly urging him to fight,
persuades him to lend him his armor, chariot, and men.
But, even while furthering his friend's departure, Achilles
charges bim neither to slay Hector nor take Troy, as he
wishes to reserve that double honor for himself. It is
just as the first vessels are enveloped in flames that
Patroclus rushes to the rescue of his countrymen. At the
sight of a warrior whom they mistake for Achilles, and at
yfihis influx of fresh -troops, the Trojans beat a retreat,
/and the Greeks, flred with new courage, pursue them across
/ the plain and to the very gates of Troy. Such is Patroclus'
I ardor that, forgetting Achilles' injunctions, he is about to
I attack Hector, when Sarpedon challenges him to a duel.
Knowing this fight wiQ prove fatal to his beloved son,
I Jupiter causes a bloody dew to fall upon earth, and de-
\ spatches Sleep and Death to take charge of his remains,
^ which they are to convey first to Olympus to receive a
fatherly kiss and then to Lycia for burial. No sooner is
Sarpedon slain than a grim fight ensues over his spoil
and remains, but while the Greeks secure his armor, his
corpse is borne away by Apollo, who, after purifying it
from all battle soil, entrusts it to Sleep and Death.

Meantime, renewing his pursuit of the Trojans, Patro-
clus ia about to scale the walls of Troy, when Apollo re-
minds him the city is not to fall a prey either to him or
to his friend. Then, in the midst of a duel in which
Patroclus engages with Hector, Apollo snatches the helmet
off the Greek hero's head, leaving him thus exposed to
his foe's deadly blows. The dying Patroclus, therefore,
declares that had not the gods betrayed him he would

THE ILIAD 35

have triumphed, and predicts that Achilles will avenge
his death. Meantime, pleased with having slain so re-
doubtable a foe. Hector makes a dash to secure Achilles'
chariot and horses, but fails because the driver (Auto-
medon) speeds away.

Book XVII. On seeing Patroclus fall, Menelaus.rushes
forward to defend his remains and rescue Achilles' armor
from the foe. Warned of this move, Hector abandons the
vain pursuit of Achilles' chariot, and returns to claim his
spoil. He has barely secured it when Menelaus and Ajax
attack him, and a mad battle takes place over Patroclus' w [

remains, while Achilles' JjacaeajEfiep for the beloved youth l/\A/tt.AArv*4.
who so often caressed them.

Book XVIII. No sooner is the death of Patroclus
known in Achilles' tent than the female captives wail,
while the hero groans so loudly that Thetis hears him.
Rising from the depths of the sea, she hurries to his side,
regretting his brief life should be marred by so much ^

sorrow. Then, hearing biTn swear to avenge his friend,
she entreats him to wait until the morrow, so she can
procure him armor from Vulcan. Having obtained this
promise, she hastens off to visit the god and bespeak his
aid in behalf of her son.

Meanwhile the Greeks, who are trying to bear away
Patroclus' remains, are so hard pressed by the Trojans
that Juno sends word Achilles must interfere. Hampered
by a lack of armor and by the promise to his mother, the
hero ventures only as far, as the trench, where, however, ^
he utters so threatening a war-cry that the Trojans flee, and |
the Greeks are thus able to bring Patroclus' body safely '
into camp, just as the sun sets and the day's fighting ends.

Having unharnessed their steeds, the Trojans assemble
to consider whether it will not be best to retreat within
their walls, for they know Achilles will appear on the
morrow to avenge Patroclus. But Hector so vehemently
insists that they maintain the advantage gained, that they
©amp on the plain, where Jupiter predicts his wife's wish
will be granted and her favorite Achilles win great glory.

36 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

It is in the course of that night that Thetis visits
Vulcan's forge and in the attitude of a suppliant im-
plores the divine blacksmith to make an armor for her
son. Not only does Vulcan consent, but hurries off to
his anvil, where he and Cyclops labor to such good pur-
pose that a superb suit of armor is ready by dawn.

Book XIX. Aurora has barely risen from the bosom
of the sea, when Thetis enters her son's tent, bearing
these wonderful weapons. Finding him still weeping over
his friend's remains, Thetis urges him to rouse himself
and fight. At the sight of the armor she brings, AchiUes'
ardor is so kindled that he proclaims he will avenge his
,friend. Pleased to think the Greeks will have the help of
this champion, Agamemnon humbly apologizes for the past,
1 proffering gifts and a feast, which latter Achilles refuses
to attend as long as Patroclus is unavenged. Before enter-
ing into battle, however, our hero implores his divine steeds
to do their best, only to be warned by one of them that,
although they will save him to-day, the time is fast com-
ing when he too will fall victim to the anger of the gods.
Undaunted by this prophecy, Achilles jumps into his
chariot and sets out for the fray, uttering his blood-
curdling war-cry.

With unabated rage — " So let it be !

Portents and prodigies are lost on me.

I know my fate: to die, to see no more

My much-loved parents and my native shore —

Enough — ^when heaven ordains, I sink in night:

Now perish Troy! " He said, and rush'd to fight.

Book XX. The gods, assembled on Mount Olympus,
are told by Jupiter that, whereas he intends merely to
witness the fight, they may all take part in it, provided
they remember Achilles is to reap the main honors of
the day. Hearing this, the gods dart off to side with
Troy and Greece, as their inclinations prompt, and thus
take an active part in the battle, for which Jupiter gives
the signal by launching a thunder-bolt. Not only do the
gods fight against each other on this day, but use all their
efforts to second their favorites in every way. Before

THE ILIAD 37

long, however, it becomes so evident they are merely delay-
ing the inevitable issue, that they agree to withdraw from
the field, leaving mortals to settle the matter themselves.

There are vivid descriptions of sundry encounters, in-
cluding one between Achilles and Aeneas, wherein both
heroes indulge in boastful speeches before coming to blows.
At one time, when Aeneas is about to get the worst of it,
the gods, knowing he is reserved for greater things, snatch
him from the battle-field and convey him to a place of
safety. Thus miraculously deprived of his antagonist,
Achilles resumes his quest for Hector, who has hitherto
been avoiding him, but who, seeing one of his brothers
fall beneath the Greek's blows, meets him bravely. But,
as the moment of Hector's death has not yet come, the
gods separate these two fighters, although their hatred is
such that, whenever they catch a glimpse of each other,
they rush forward to renew the fight.

Book XXI. Fleeing before the Greeks, the Trojans
reach the Xanthus River, into which AchiUes plunges
after them, and where, after killing hosts of victims, he
secures a dozen prisoners to sacrifice on his friend's tomb.
Hearing AchiUes refuse mercy to a young Trojan, and
enraged because he has choked his bed with corpses, the
River God suddenly rises to chide him, but Achilles is
now in so defiant a mood that he is ready to fight even
the gods themselves. In spite of his couragM heT^ald,
however, have been drowned, had not NopTOTOand
MiEe^acome to his rescue, fighting the waters with fire,
and assuring him Hector will soon lie lifeless at his feet.

He ceased; wide conflagration blazing round;
The bubbled waters yield a hissing sound.
As when the flames beneath a cauldron rise,
To melt the fat of some rich sacrifice.
Amid the fierce embrace of circling fires
The waters foam, the heavy smoke aspires:
So boils the imprison'd flood, forbid to flow,
And choked with vapors feels his bottom glow.

The course of this day's fighting is anxiously watched
by old King Priam from the top of the Trojan ramparts.

/:

88 THE BOOK OP THE EPIC

and, when lie sees Achilles' forces pursuing his fleeing army
across the plaia, he orders the gates opened to admit the
fugitives, and quickly closed again so the foe cannot enter
too. To facilitate this move, Apollo assumes the guise of
Hector and decoys Achilles away from the gates until the
bulk of the Trojan army is safe.

Book XXII. Meantime the real Hector is stationed be-
side the gate, and Achilles, suddenly perceiving he has been
pursuing a mere phantom, darts with a cry of wrath
'toward Ms foe. Seeing him coming. Hector's parents im-
plore him to seek refuge within the walls, but the young
man is too brave to accept such a proposal. Still, when
he sees the fire in Achilles' eyes, he cannot resist an in-
voluntary recoil, and turning, flees, with Achilles in close
^ pursuit, hurling taunts at him.

These warriors circle the citadel, until the gods, looking

on, knowing they can no longer defer Hector's death, but

wishing it to be glorious, send .Apollo down to urge him to

fight. In the guise of one of Hector's brothers, this god

offers to aid him, so, thus supported. Hector turns to meet

Achilles, with whom before fighting he tries to bargain that

the victor shall respect the remains of the vanquished. But

/Achilles refuses to listen to terms, and in the course of the

(ensuing duel is ably seconded by Minerva, while Hector,

I who depends upon his supposed brother to supply him with

Veapons when his fail, is basely deserted by Apollo.

Seeing him disarmed, Achilles finally deals him a deadly
blow, and, although the dying hero tries to abate his re-
sentment, loudly proclaims he shall be a prey to vultures
and wolves. Hearing this. Hector curses his conqueror
and dies, predicting Achilles shall be slaiu by Paris. His
victim having breathed his last, Achilles ties him by the
heels to his chariot, and then drives off with Hector's noble
head trailing in the dust !

Meantime Andromache, busy preparing for her hus-
band's return, is so startled by loud cries that she rushes
off to the ramparts to find out what has oceurredi Arriving
there just in time to see her husband dragged away, she

\\

THE ILIAD 39

faints at the pitiful sight, and, on coming back to her
senses, bewails her sad fate, foresees an unhappy fate for
her infant son, and r^rets not being able to bury her
beloved husband.

Book XXIII. On reaching his tent with his victim,
Achilles drags it around Patroclus' remains, apostrophiz-
ing him and assuring bim that twelve Trojans shall be
executed on his pyre, while his slayer's body shaU be a
prey to the dogs. Then, having cast Hector's corpse on
the refuse heap, Achilles assembles the Greeks in his tent
for a funeral repast, after which they retire, leaving him
to mourn. That night he is visited by Patroclus' spirit,
which warns him he will soon have to die, and bespeaks
funeral rites. This vision convinces AqhiUes that the
human soul does not perish with the body, and impels
him to rouse his companions at dawn to erect a huge
pyre on the shore, where innumerable victims are to be
sacrificed to satisfy his friend's spirit. Then he renews
his promise that Hector's body shall be a prey to the dogs,
little suspecting that Venus has mounted guard over it,
so that no harm may befall it.

In describing the building and lighting of the pyre,
the poet relates how the flames were fanned by opposite
winds, depicts the sacrifices offered, the funeral games
celebrated, and explains how the ashes were finally placed
in an urn, where those of Achilles were in tim.e to mingle
with those of his friend.

Booh XXIV. Although most of the Greek warriors are
resting after the strenuous pleasures of the day, Achilles
weeps in his tent until daybreak, when he harnesses his
horses to his chariot and again drags Hector's body around
Patroclus' tomb, little suspecting how Venus and Apollo
guard it from all harm. It is only on the twelfth day after
Patroclus' death, that the gods interfere in behalf of the
Trojans, by sending Iris to Priam to guide him to Achilles'
tent, where they assure him his prayers will obtain hia
son's body. The rainbow goddess not only serves as guide
to the mourning father, but brings him unseen into

40 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

Achilles' tent, where, falling at the hero's feet, the aged
/ Priam sues in such touching terms that the Greek warrior's
C heart melts and tears stream down his cheeks. Not only-
does he grant Priam's request, but assures him he is far
happier than Peleu®, since he still has several sons to
cheer liim although Hector has been slain.

These words soft pity in the chief inspire,
Touch'd with the dear remembrance of his sire.
Then with his hand (as prostrate still he lay)
The old man's cheek he gently tum'd away.
Now each by turns indulged the gush of woe;
And now the mingled tides together flow:
This low on earth, that gently bending o'er;
A father one, and one a son deplore:
But great Achilles different passions rend.
And now his sire he mourns, and now his friend.
The infectious softness through the heroes ran
One universal solemn shower began;
They bore as heroes, but they felt as man.

Still guided by Iris, Priam conveys the body of his son

back to Troy, where his mother, wife, and the other Trojan

women utter a touching lament. Then a funeral pyre is

built, and the Iliad of Homer closes with brave Hector's

obsequies.

All Troy then moves to Priam's court again,
A solemn, silent, melancholy train :
Assembled there, from pious toil they rest.
And sadly shared the last sepulchral feast.
Such honors Ilion to her hero paid.
And peaceful slept the mighty Hector's shade.

THE ODYSSEY

Booh I. Homer's second great epic covers a period of
forty-two days. After the opening invocation he proceeds
to relate the adventures of Ulysses. Nearly ten years
have elapsed since the taking of Troy, when the gods look-
ing down from Olympus behold him — sole sturvivor of his
troop — stranded on the Island of Calypso. After some
mention of the fate of the other Greeks, Jupiter decrees
that Ulysses shall return to Ithaca, where many suitors
are besieging his wife Penelope. In obedience with this

THE ODYSSEY 41

decree, Pallas (Minerva) dons golden sandals — ^which per-
mit her to flit with equal ease over land and sea — and visits
Ithaca, where Ulysses' son, Telemachus, mournfully views
the squandering of his father's wealth. Here she is hos-
pitably received, and, after some convBrsation, urges
Telemachus to visit the courts of Nestor and Menelaus to
inquire of these kings whether his father is dead.

Telemachus has just promised to carry out this sug-
gestion, when the suitors' bard begins the recital of the
woes which have befallen the various Greek chiefs on their
return from Troy. These sad strains attract Penelope,
who passionately beseeches the baard not to enhance her
sorrows by his songs!

Assuming a tone of authority for the first time, Tele-
machus bids his mother retire aad pray, then, addressing
the suitors, vows that unless they depart he will call
down upon them the vengeance of the gods. These words
are resented by these men, wJio continue their revelry
until the night, when Telemachus retires, to dream of his
projected journey.

Book II. With dawn, Telemachus rises and betakes
himself to the market-place, where ia public council he
complains of the suitors' depredations, and announces he
is about to depart in quest of his sire. In reply to his
denunciations the suitors accuse Penelope of deluding them,
instancing how she promised to choose a husband as soon
as she had finished weaving a winding sheet for her
father-in-law Laertea. But, instead of completing this
task as soon as possible, she ravelled by night the work
done during the day, until the suitors discovered the

trick.

" The work she plied; but, studious of delay.
By night reversed the labors of the day.
While thrice the sun his annual journey made.
The conscious lamp the midnight fraud survey'd;
Unheard, unseen, three years her arts prevail:
The fourth, her maid unfolds the amazing tale.
We saw as unperceived we took our stand.
The backward labors of her faithless hand " "

' The quotations of the Odyssey are taken from Pope's translation.

42 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC"

They now suggest that Telemachus send Penelope back
to her father, but the youth indignantly refuses, and the
council closes while he prays for vengeance. That he has
not been unheard is proved by the appearance of two
eag'les, which peck out the eyes of some of the spectators.
This is interpreted by an old man as an omen of Ulysses'
speedy return, and he admonishes all present to prove
faithful, lest they incur a master's wrath.

The assembly having dispersed, Telemachus hastens
down to the shore, where Minerva visits him in the guise
of his tutor Mentor, and instructs him to arrange for
secret departure. Telemachus, therefore, returns to the
palace, where the suitors are preparing a new feast. Re-
fusing to join their revels, he seeks his old nurse Eurycleia,
to whom he entrusts the provisioning of his vessel, bidding
her if possible conceal his departure from Penelope for
twelve days. Meantime, in the guise of Telemachus,
Minerva scours the town to secure skilful oarsmen, and at
sunset has a vessel ready to sail. Then, returning to the
palace, she enchains the senses of the suitors in such deep
slumber that Telemachus effects his departure unseen, and
embarking with Mentor sets sail, his vessel speeding
smoothly over the waves all night.

Book III. At sunrise Telemachus reaches Pylos and
finds Nestor and his friends offering a sacrifice on the
shore. Joining the feasters, — ^who gather by fifties around
tables groaning beneath the weight of nine oxen apiece, —
Telemachus makes known his name and errand. In return,
Nestor mentions the deaths of Patroclus and Achilles, the
taking of Troy, and the Greeks' departure from its shores.
He adds that, the gods having decreed they should not
reach home without sore trials, half the army lingered be-
hind with Agamemnon to offer propitiatory sacrifices,
while the rest sailed on. Among these were Nestor and
Ulysses, but, while the former pressed on and reached
home, the latter, turning back to pacify the gods, was
seen no more ! Since his return, Nestor has been saddened
by the death of Agamemnon, slain on his arrival at Mycenae

THE ODYSSEY 43

by his faithless wife Clytenmestra and her lover Aegistheus.
His brother, Menelaus, more fortunate, has recently
reached home, having been long delayed in Egypt by
contrary winds.

"While Nestor recounts these tales, day declines, so he
invites Telemachus to his palace for the night, promising
to send him on the morrow to Sparta, where he can question
Menelaus himself. Although Mentor urges Telemaehus to
accept this invitation, he declares he must return to the
ship, and vanishes in the shape of a bird, thus revealing to
all present his divine origin. A sumptuous meal in the
palace ensues, and the guest, after a good night, partici-
pates at break of day in a solemn sacrifice.

Book IV. Riding in a chariot skilfully guided by one
of Nestor's sons, Telemaehus next speeds on to Sparta,
where he finds Menelaus celebrating the marriages of a
daughter and son. On learning that strangers have
arrived, Menelaus orders every attention shown them, and
only after they have been refreshed by food and drink,
inquires their errand. He states that he himself reached
home only after wandering seven years, and adds that he
often yearns to know what has become of Ulysses. At this
name Telemaehus' tears flow, and Helen, who has just ap-
peared, is struck by his resemblance to his father. When
Telemaehus admits his identity, Menelaus and Helen mingle
their tears with his, for the memory of the past over-
whelms them with sorrow. Then to restore a more cheer-
ful atmosphere, Helen casts "nepenthe" into the wine,
thanks to which beneficent drug all soon forget their wo^.
She next relates how Ulysses once entered Troy in the
guise of a beggar, and how she alone recognized him in
spite of his disguise. This reminds Menelaus of the time
when Ulysses restrained him and the other Greeks in the
wooden horse, and when Helen marched around it mimick-
ing the voices of their wives!

Soothed by "nepenthe," all retire to rest, and when
morning dawns Telemaehus inquires whether Menelaus
knows aught of his father. All the information Menelaus

44 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

vouchsafes is that when he surprised Proteus, counting
sea-calves on the island of Pharos, he was told he would
reach home only after making due sacrifices in Egypt to
appease the gods, that his brother had been murdered on
arriving at Mycenae, and that Ulysses — ^sole survivor of
his crew — -was detained by Calypso in an island, whence
he had no means of escape. The sea-god had further
promised that Menelaus should never die, stating that, as
husband of Helen and son-in-law of Jupiter, he would
enjoy everlasting bliss in the Elysian Fields. Then, after
describing the sacrifices which insured his return to Sparta,
Menelaus invites Telemaehus to tarry with him, although
the youth insists he must return home.

Meantime the suitors in Ulysses' palajce entertain them-
selves with games, in the midst of which they learn that
Telemaehus has gone. Realizing that if he were dead
Penelope's fortunate suitor would become possessor of all
Ulysses' wealth, they decide to man a vessel to guard the
port and slay Telemaehus on his return. This plot is over-
heard by a servant, who hastens to report it to Penelope.
On learning her son has ventured out to sea, she wrings
her hands, and reviles the nurse who abetted his departure
until this wise woman advises her rather to pray for her
son's safe return! While Penelope is offering propitiatory
sacrifices, the suitors despatch a vessel in Antinous' charge
to lie in wait for the youth. But, during the sleep which
overcomes Penelope after ber prayers, she is favored by a
vision, in which her sister assures her Telemaehus will soon
be restored to her arms, although she refuses to give her
any information in regard to Ulysses.

Book V. Aurora has barely announced the return of
day to gods and men, when Jupiter assembles his council
on I^Iount Olympus. There Minerva rehearses Ulysses'
grievances, demanding that he be at last allowed to return
home and his son saved from the suitors' ambush. In
reply Jupiter sends Mercury to bid Calypso provide her
unwilling guest with the means to leave her shores. Don-
ning his golden sandals, the messenger-god flits to the

THE ODYSSEY 45

Island of Ogygia, enters Calypso's wonderful cave, and
delivers his message. Although reluctant to let Ulysses
depart. Calypso — ^not daring oppose the will of Jupiter-
goes in quest of her guest. Finding him gazing tearfuUy
in the direction of home, she promises to supply hlin with
the means to build a raft which, thanks to the gods, will,
enable him to reach Ithaca.

After a copious repast and a night's rest, Ulysses fells
twenty trees and constructs a raft, in which, after it has
been provisioned by Calypso, he sets sail. For seventeen
days the stars serve as his guides, and he is nearing the
island of Phaeacia, when Neptune becomes aware that his
hated foe is about to escape. One stroke of the i^ea-god's
mighty trident then stirs up a tem{)est Which dashes the
raft to pieces, and Ulysses is in imminent danger of per-
ishing, when the sea-nymph Leucothea gives him her life-
preserving scarf, bidding him cast it back into the waves
when it has borne him safely to land ! Buoyed up by this
scarf, Ulysses finally reaches the shore, where, after obeying
the nymph's injunctions, he buries himself in dead leaves
and sinks into an exhausted sleep.

Close to the cliff with both his hands he clung,
And stuck adherent, and suspended hung;
Till the htige surge roll'd off; then backward sweep
The refluent tides, and plunge him in the deep.
And when the polypus, from forth his cave
Torn with full force, reluctant beats the wave,
His ragged claws are stuck with stones and sands;
So the rough rock had shagg'd Ul3*ses' hands.
And now had perish'd, whelm'd beneath the main,
The unhappy man; e'en fate had beto in vain;
But all-subduing Pallas lent her power,
And prudence saved him in the needful hour.

Booh VI. While Ulysses is thus sleeping, Minerva, in
a dream, admonishes Nausicaa, daughter of the Phfteaoian
king, to wash her garments in readinefe for her wedding.
On awakening, the princess, after bespfeaMag a chariot
with mules to draw the clothes to the washing place, de-
parts with her maids for the shore.

The clothes washed and hung out to dry, the princess

46 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

and her attendants play ball, until tbeir loud shrieks
awaken Ulysses. Veiling his nakedness behind leafy
branches, he timidly approaches the maidens, and addresses
them from afar. Convinced he is, as he represents, a ship-
wrecked man in need of aid, the princess provides him
with garments, and directs him to follow her diariot to
the confines of the city. There he is to wait until she has
reached home before presenting himself before her parents,
as she does not wish his presence with her to cause gossip
in town.

Booh VII. Having left Ulysses behind her, Nausicaa'
returns home, where her chariot is unloaded; but shortly
after she has retired, Ulysses, guided by Minerva in dis-
guise, enters the town and palace unseen. It is only
when, obeying Nausicaa 's instructions, he seeks her
mother's presence and beseeches her aid, that he becomes
visible to all. King and queen gladly promise their pro-
tection to the suppliant, who, while partaking of food,
describes himself as a shipvirrecked mariner and asks to
be sent home. After he has refreshed himself, the queen,
who has recognized the clothes he wears, learning how he
obtained them, delights in her daughter's charity and
prudence. Then she and her husband promise the wan-
derer their protection before retiring to rest.

Book VIII. At daybreak the king conducts his guest
to the public square, where Minerva has summoned all the
inhabitants. To this assembly Aleinous makes known that
a nameless stranger bespeaks their aid, and proposes that
after a banquet, where blind Demodocus will entertain
them, with his songs, they load the suppliant with gifts
and send him home.

The projected festive meal is well under way when the
bard begins singing of a quarrel between Ulysses and
Achilles, strains which so vividly recall happier days that
Ulysses, drawing his cloak over his head, gives way to
tears. Noting this emotion, Aleinous checks the bard and
proposes games. After displaying their skill in racing,
wrestling, discus-throwing, etc., the contestants mockingly

THE ODYSSEY 47

challenge Ulysses to give an exhibition of his proficiency
in games of strength and skill. Stung by their covert
taunts, the stranger casts the discus far beyond their best
mark, and avers that although out of practice he is not
afraid to match them in feats of strength, admitting, how-
ever, that he cannot compete with them in fleetness of foot
or in the dance. His prowess in one line and frank con-
fession of inferiority in another disarm further criticism,
and the young men dance until the bard begins singing of
Vulcan's stratagem to pixnish a faithless spouse.*

All the Phaeadans now present gifts to the stranger,
who finds himself rich indeed, but who assures Nausicaa
he will never forget she was the first to lend him aid.
Toward the close of the festivities the blind bard sings of
the wooden horse devised by Ulysses and abandoned on
the shore by the retreating Greeli. Then he describes its
triumphant entry into Troy, where for the first time in
ten years all sleep soundly without dread of a surprise.
But, while the too confident Trojans are thus resting peace-
fully upon their laurels, the Greeks, emerging from this
wooden horse, open the gates to their comrades, and the
sack of Troy begins! Because the stranger guest again
shows great emotion, Alcinous begs him to relate his ad-
ventures and asks whether he has lost some relative in the
war of Troy?

Touch'd at the song, Ulysses straight resign'd
To soft atBiction all his manly mind:
Before his eyes the purple vest he drew.
Industrious to conceal the falling dew:
But when the music paused, he ceased to shed
The flowing tear, and raised his drooping head:
And, lifting to the gods a goblet crown'd,
He pour'd a pure libation to the ground.

Booh IX. Thus invited to speak, Ulysses, after in.
troducing himself and describing his island home, relates
how, the ruin of Troy completed, he and his men left the
Trojan shores. Driven by winds to Ismarus, they sacked
the town, but, instead of sailing off immediately with their

••See chapter on Venus in the author's "Myths of Greece and
Eome."

48 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

booty as Ulysses urged, tarried there until surprised by
their foes, from whom they were glad to escape with their
lives! Tossed by a tempest for many days, the Greek
ships next neared the land of the Lotus-Eaters, people who
feasted upon the buds and blossoms of a narcotic lotus.
Sending three men ashore to reconnoitre, Ulysses vainly
awaited their return; finally, mistriistiag what had hap-
pened, he went in quest of them himself, only to find that
having partaken of the lotus they were dead to the calls of
home and ambition. Seizing these men, Ulysses conveyed
them bound to his ship, and, without allowing the rest to
land, sailed hastily away from those pernicious shores.

Before long he came to the land of the Cyclops, and
disembarked on a small neighboring island to renew his
stock of food and water. Then, unwilling to depart with-
out having at least visited the Cyclops, he took twelve of
his bravest men, a skin-bottle full of delicious wine, and
set out to find Polyphemus, chief of the Cyclops. On
entering the huge cave where this giant pursued his
avocation of dairyman, Ulysses and his companions built
a fire, around which they sat awaiting their host's return.
Before long a huge one-eyed monster drove in his flocks,
and, after closing the opening of his cave with a rock
which no one else could move, proceeded to milk his ewes
and make cheese.

It was only while at supper that he noticed Ulysses and
his men, who humbly approached him as suppliants. After
shrewdly questioning them to ascertain whether they were
alone, believing Ulysses' tale that they were shipwrecked
men, he seized and devoured two of them before he lay
down to rest. Although sorely tempted to slay him while
he was thus at their mercy, Ulysses refrained, knowing he
and his companions would never be able to move the rock.

At dawn the giant again milked his flock, and devoured
— as a relish for his breakfast — ^two more Greeks. Then he
easily rolled aside the rock, which he replaced when he and
his flock had gone out for the day, thus imprisoning Ulysses
and his eight surviving men.

THE ODYSSEY 49

During that long day Ulysses sharpened to a point a
young pine, and, after hardening this weapon in the fire,
secured by lot the helpers he needed to execute his plan.
That evening Polyphemus, having finished his chorea and
cannibal repast, graciously accepted the wine which Ulysses
oflEered him. Pleased with its taste, he even promised the
giver a reward if he would only state his name. The wily
Ulysses declaring he was called Noman, the giant facetiously
promised to eat him last, before he fell into a drunken
sleep. Then Ulysses and his four men, heating the pointed
pine, bored out the eye of Polyphemus, who howled with
pain:

" Sudden I stir the embers, and inspire

With animating breath the seeds of fire;

Each drooping spirit with bold words repair.

And urge my train the dreadful deed to dare.

The stake now glow'd beneath the burning bed

(Green as it was) and sparkled fiery red.

Then forth the vengeful instrument I bring;

With beating hearts my fellows form a ring.

Urged by some present god, they swift let fall

The pointed torment on his visual ball.

Myself above them from a rising ground

Guide the sharp stake, and twirl it round and round.

As when a shipwright stands his workmen o'er.

Who ply the wimble, some huge beam to bore;

Urged on all hands it nimbly spins about,

The grain deep-piercing till it scoops it out;

In his broad eye so whirls the fiery wood;

From the pierced pupil spouts the boiling blood;

Singed are his brows ; the scorching lids grow black ;

The jelly bubbles, and the fibres crack."

His fellow-Cyclops, awakened by his cries, gathered
without his cave, asking what was the matter. But, hear-
ing him vehemently howl that Noman was hurting him,
they all declared he was evidently being punished by the
gods and left him to his plight!

When morning came, the groaning Cyclops rolled aside
the rock, standing beside it with arms outstretched to
catch his prisoners should they attempt to escape. Seeing
this, Ulysses tied his men under the sheep, and, clinging
to the fleece of the biggest ram, had himself dragged, out
of the cave. Passing his hand over the badjs of the sheep

4

50 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

to make sure the strangers were not riding on them,
Polyphemus recognized by touch his favorite ram, and
feelingly ascribed its slow pace to sympathy with his woes.

The master ram at last approach'd the gate,
Charged with his wool and with Ulysses' fate.
Him, while he pass'd, the monster blind best)oke:
" What makes my ram the lag of all the flock?
First thou wert wont to crop the flowery mead,
Krat to the field and river's bank to lead.
And first with stately step at evening hour
Thy fleecy fellows usher to their bower.
Now far the last, with pensive pace and slow
Thou movest, as conscious of thy master's woe!
Seest thou these lids that now unfold in vain,
(The deed of Noman and his wicked train?)
Oh I didst thou feel for thy afflicted lord.
And would but fate the power of speech aflford;
Soon might'st thou tell me where in secret here
The dastard lurks, all trembling with his fear:
Swung round and round and dash'd from rock to rock.
His batter'd brains should on the pavement smoke.
No ease, no pleasure my sad heart receives.
While such a monster as vile Noman lives."

Once out of the cave, Ulysses cut the bonds of his
men, with whose aid he drove part of Polyphemus' flock
on board of his ship, which he had hidden in a cove. He
and his companions were scudding safely past the head-
land where blind Polyphemus idly sat, when Ulysses taunt-
ingly raised his voice to make known his escape and real
name. With a cry of rage, the giant flung huge masses
of rock in the direction of his voice, hotly vowing his
father Neptune would yet avenge his wrongs!

Book X. After leaving the island of the Cyclops,
Ulysses visited Aeolus, king of the winds, and was hos-
pitably entertained in his cave. In token of friend-
ship and to enable Ulysses to reach home quickly, Aeolus
bottled up all the contrary winds, letting loose only those
which would speed him on his way. On leaving Aeolus,
Ulysses so carefully guarded the skin bottle containing the
adverse gales that his men fancied it must contain jewels
of great price. For nine days and nights Ulysses guided
the rudder, and only when the shores of Ithaca came in

CIRCE AND ULYSSES^ COMPANIONS TURNED INTO SWINE

By L. Chalon

THE ODYSSEY 51

sight closed his eyes in sleep. This moment was seized
by his crew to open the bottle, whence the captive winds
escaped with a roar, stirring up a hurricane which finally
drove them back to Aeolus' isle.

"They said: and (oh cursed fate! ) the thongs unbound!
The gushing tempest sweeps the ocean round;
Snatch'd in the whirl, the hurried navy flew.
The ocean widen'd and the shores withdrew.
Eoused from my fatal sleep, I long debate
If still to live, or desperate plunge to fate;
Thus doubting, prostrate on the deck I lay.
Till all the coward thoughts of death gave way."

On seeing them return with tattered sails, Aeolus
averred they had incurred the wrath of some god and
therefore drove them away from his realm. Toiling at the
oar, they reached, after seven days, the harbor of the
Laestrigonians, cannibal giants, from whose clutches only
a few ships escaped. Sorrowing for their lost friends, the
Greeks next landed in the island of Circe, where Ulysses
remained with half his men by the ships, while the rest
set out to renew their supplies. This party soon discov-
ered the abode of the enchantress Circe, who, aware of
their approach, had prepared a banquet and a magic drug.
Enticed by her sweet voice, all the men save one sat down
to her banquet, and ate so greedily that the enchantress,
contemptuously waving her wand over them, bade them
assume the forms of the animals they most resembled ! A
moment later a herd of grunting pigs surrounded her,
pigs which, however, retained a distressing consciousness
of their former human estate.

Milk newly press'd, the saci'ed flour of wheat.
And honey fresh, and Framnian wines the treat:
But venom'd was the bread, and mix'd the bowl.
With drugs of force to darken all the soul:
Soon in the luscious feast themselves they lost.
And drank oblivion of their native coast.
Instant her circling wand the goddess waves,
To hogs transforms them, and the sty receives.
No more was seen the human form divine;
Head, face, and members, bristle into swine:
Still cursed with sense, their minds remain alone.
And their own voice affrights them when they groan.

62 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

This dire transformation was viewed with horror by
the man lurking outside, who fled back to the ships,
imploring Ulysses to depart. Unwilling to desert his men,
Ulysses on the contrary set out for Circe's dwelling, meet-
ing on the way thither Mercury in disguise, who gave
him an herb to annul the effect of Circe's drugs and
directed liim how to free his companions.

Following these instructions, Ulysses entered Circe's
abode, partook of the refreshments offered him, and, when
she waved her wand over him, threatened to kill her unless
she restored his men to their wonted forms ! The terrified
Circe not only complied, but detained Ulysses and his
companions with her a full year. As at the end of that
time the men pleaded to return home, Ulysses told his
hostess he must leave. Then she informed him he must
first visit the Cimmerian shore and consult the shade of the
blind seer Tiresias. The prospect of such a journey greatly
alarmed Ulysses, but when Circe had told him just how to
proceed, he bravely set out.

Wafted by favorable winds, Ulysses' ship soon reached
the country of eternal night. On landing there he dug
a trench, and slew the black victims Circe had given
him, and with drawn sword awaited the approach of a
host of shades, among whom he recognized a man killed
by accident on Circe's island, who begged for proper
funeral rites. By Circe's order, Ulysses, after allowing
the ghost of Tiresias to partake of the victim's blood,
learned from him that, although pursued by Neptune's
vengeance, he and his men would reach home safely, pro-
vided they respected the cattle of the Sun on the island
of Trinacria. The seer added that all who attacked them
would perish, and that, even if he should escape death and
return home, he would have to slay his wife's insolent
suitors before he oould rest in peace.

After this had been accomplished, Ulysses was to
resume his wanderings until he came to a land where the
oar he carried would be mistaken for a winnowing fan.
There he was to offer a propitiatory sacrifice to Neptune,

THE ODYSSEY 53

after which he would live to serene old age and die
peacefully among his own people* His conversation with
Tiresias finished, Ulysses interviewed his mother — of
whose demise he had not been aware — and conversed with
the shades of sundry women noted for having borne sonsi
to gods or to famous heroes.

Book XI. This account had been heard with breathless
interest by the Phaeacians, whose king now implored!
Ulysses to go on. The hero then described his interview
with the ghost of Agamemnon, — slain by his wife and her
paramour on his return from Troy, — ^who predicted his
safe return home, and begged for tidings of his- son
Orestes, of whom Ulysses knew nought. Ulysses next be-
held Achilles, who, although ruler of the dead, bitterly
. declared he would rather be the meanest laborer on earth
than monarch among shades!

"Talk not of ruling in this dolorous gloom,
Nor think vain words (he cried) can ease my doom<
Eather I'd choose laboriously to bear
A weight of woes and breathe the vital air,
A slave to some poor hind that toils for bread,
Than reign the sceptered monarch of the dead."

To comfort him, Ulysses described how bravely his
son had fought at the taking of Troy, where he had been
one of the men in the wooden horse. The only shade which
refused to approach Ulysses was that of Ajax, who still
resented his having won the armor of AchiUes. Besides
these shades, Ulysses beheld the judges of Hades and the
famous culprits of Tartarus. But, terrified by the "in-
numerable nation of the dead" crowding around him,
he finally fled in haste to his vessel, and' was goon wafted
back to Circe's shore.

Book XII. There Ulysses buried his dead companion
and, after describing his visit to Hades, begged his hostess'
permission to depart. Circe consented, warning him to
beware of the Sirens, of the threatening rocksj of the
monster Scylla and the whirlpool Charybdis' oo either
side of the Messenian Strait, and of the cattle of Trinacria,

54 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

giving him minute directions how to escape unharmed
from all these perils.

Morning having come, Ulysses took leave of Circe, and,
on nearing the reef of the. Sirens, directed his men to
bind him fast to the mast, paying no heed to his gestures,
after he had stopped their ears with soft wax. In this
way he heard, without perishing, the Sirens' wonderful
song, and it was only when it had died away in the dis-
tance and the spell ceased that his men unbound him from
the mast.

"Thus the sweet charmers warbled o'er the main;
My soul takes wing to meet the heavenly strain;
I give the sign, and struggle to be free:
Swift row my mates, and shoot along the sea;
New chains they add, and rapid urge the way,
Till, dying off, the distant sounds decay:
Then scudding swiftly from the dangerous ground.
The deafen'd ears unlock'd, the chains unbound."

Not daring describe to his companions the threatened
horrors of Charybdis and Scylla, Ulysses bade his steers-
man avoid the whirlpool, and, fully armed, prepared to
brave the monster Scylla. But, notwithstanding his
preparations, she snatched from his galley six men who were
seen no more! Although reluctant to land on Trinaeria
for fear his sailors would steal the cattle of the Sun,
Ulysses was constrained to do so to allow them to rest.
While they were there, unfavorable winds began to blow,
and continued so long that the Greeks consumed all their
provisions, and, in spite of their efforts to supply their
larder by hunting and fishing, began to suffer from hunger.
D'uring one of Ulysses' brief absences the men, breaking
their promises, slew some of the beeves of the Sun, which
although slain moved and lowed as if still alive! Un-
deterred by such miracles, the men feasted, but, on em-
barking six days later, they were overtaken by a tempest
in which all perished save Ulysses. Clinging to the mast
of his wrecked ship, he drifted between Charybdis and
Scylla, escaping from the whirlpool only by clinging to
the branches of an overhangiag fig-tree. Then, tossed by

THE ODYSSEY 55

the waves for nine days longer, Ulysses was finally cast
on tile isle of Ogygia, whence he had come directly to
Phaeacia as already described.

Book XIII. Having finished this account of his ten
years' wanderings, Ulysses, after banqueting with Alcin-
ous, was conveyed with his gifts to the ship which was to
take him home. Then, while he slept in the prow, the
skilful Phaeacian rowers entered a sheltered Ithacan bay,
where they set sleeper and gifts ashore and departed with-
out awaiting thanks. They were about to reenter their
own port when Neptune, discovering they had taken his
enemy home, struck their vessel with his trident, thus
transforming it into the galley-shaped rock stiU seen there
to-day.

Meantime Ulysses, awakening, hid his treasures away
in a cave. Then, accosted by Minerva in disguise, he gave
a fantastic account of himself, to which she lent an amused
ear, before assuring him of her identity and of his wife's
fidelity. She then reported the insolence of the suitors
lying in wait to murder Telemachus at his return, and
suggested that Ulysses, in the guise of an aged beggar,
should visit his faithful swineherd until time to make his
presence known.

Book XIV. Transformed by Minerva into a sordid
mendicant, Ulysses next visits the swineherd, who sets
before him the best he has, complaining that the greedy
suitors deplete his herds. This old servant is comforted
when the beggar assures him his master will soon return
and reports having seen him lately. Ulysses' fictitious
account of himself serves as entertainment until the hour
for rest, when the charitable swineherd covers his guest
with his best cloak.

Book XV. Meantime Minerva, hastening to Sparta,
awakens in the heart of the sleeping Telemachus a keen
desire to return home, warns him of the suitors' ambush,
instructs him how to avoid it, and cautions him on his
return to trust none save the women on whose fidelity he
can depend. At dawn, therefore, Telemachus, after offer-

56 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

ing a saxjrifice and receiving Menelans' and Helen's parting
gifts, sets out, cheered by favorable omens. Without paus-
ing to visit Nestor, — ^whose son is to convey his thanks, —
Telemachus embarks, and, following Minerva's instructions,
lands near the swineherd's hut.

Book XVI. The swineherd is preparing breakfast, when
Ulysses warns him a friend is coming, for his dogs fawn
upon the stranger and do not bark. A moment later
Telemachus enters the hut, and is warmly welcomed by his
servant, who wishes him to occupy the place of honor at his
table. But Telemachus modestly declines it in favor of the
aged stranger, to whom he promises clothes and protection
as soon as he is master in his own house. Then he bids the
swineherd notify his mother of his safe arrival, directing
her to send word to Laertes of his return. This man has
no sooner gone than Minerva restores Ulysses to more than
his wonted vigor and good looks, bidding him make him-
self known to his son and concert with him how to dispose
of the suitors. Amazed to see the beggar transformed into
an imposing warrior, Telemachus is overjoyed to learn who
he really is. The first transports of joy over, Ulysses
advises his son to return home, lull the suitors' suspicions
by specious words, and, after removing all weapons from
the banquet hall, await the arrival of his father who will
appear in mendicant's guise.

While father and son are thus laying their plans, Tele-
machus' vessel reaches port, where the suitors mourn the
escape of their victim. They dare not, however, attack
Telemachus openly, for fear of forfeiting Penelope's re-
gard, and assure her they intend to befriend him. Mean-
time, having delivered his message to his mistress, the
swineherd returns to his hut, where he spends the evening
with Telemachus and the beggar, little suspecting the latter
is his master.

Booh XVII. At daybreak Telemachus hastens back to
the palace, whither the swineherd is to guide the stranger
later in the day, and is rapturously embraced by his mother.
After a brief interview, Telemachus sends her back to her

THE ODYSSEY 67

apartment to efface the trace of her tears, adding that he
is on his way to the market-place to meet a travelling com-
panion whom he wishes to entertain. After welcoming this
man with due hospitality, Telemachus gives his mother an
account of his trip. While he is thus occupied, Ulysses is
wending his way to the palace, where he arrives just as
the suitors' wonted revels reach their height. But as he
enters the court-yard, his favorite hunting dog expires for
joy on recognizing him.

He knew his lord; — he knew, and strove to meet;
In vain he strove to crawl and kiss his feet;
Yet (all he could) his tail, his ears, his eyes,
Salute his master and confess his joys.
Soft pity touch'd the mighty master's soul:
Adown his cheek a tear unbidden stole;
iStole unperceived: he turn'd his head, and dried
The drop humane.

Humbly making the rounds of the tables like the beggar
he seems, Ulysses is treated kindly by Telemachus, but
grossly insulted by the suitors, one of whom, Antinous,
actually flings a stool at him. Such a violation of the
rights of hospitality causes some commotion in the palace,
and so rouses the indignation of Penelope that she ex-
presses a wish to converse with the beggar, who may have
heard of her absent spouse.

Book XVIII. Meantime Ulysses has also come into con-
flict with the town-beggar (Irus), a lusty youth, who chal-
lenges him to fight. To his dismay, Ulysses displays such
a set of muscles on laying aside his robe that the insolent
challenger wishes to withdraw. He is, however, compelled
by the suitors to fight, and is thoroughly beaten by Ulysses,
whose strength arouses the suitors' admiration. Then, in
reply to their questions, Ulysses favors them with another
of those tales which do far more honor to his imagination
than to his veracity.

Meantime Penelope indulges in a nap, during which
Minerva restores all her youthful charms. Then she
descends into the hall, to chide Telemachus for allowing
a stranger to be insulted beneath his father's roof. She

68 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

next remarks that she foresees she will soon have to choose
a husband among the suitors present, as it is only too evi-
dent Ulysses is dead, and, under pretext of testing their
generosity, induces them all to bestow upon her gifts, which
she thriftily adds to her stores. Beside themselves with joy
at the prospect that their long wooing will soon be over,
the suitors sing and dance, until Telemachus advises them
to return home.

Booh XIX. The suitors having gone, Ulysses helps
Telemachus remove all the weapons, while the faithful
nurse mounts guard over the palace women. Secretly
helped by Minerva, father and son accomplish their task,
and are sitting before the fire when Penelope comes to ask
the beggar to relate when and how he met Ulysses. This
time the stranger gives so accurate a description of Ulysses,
that Penelope, wishing to show him some kindness, sum-
mons the old nurse to bathe his feet. Because she herself
dozes while this homely task is being performed, she is not
aware that the old nurse recognizes her master by a scar
on his leg, and is cautioned by him not to make his presence
known.

Deep o'er his knee inseam'd, remain'd the scar:

Which noted token of the woodland war

When Euryclea found, the ablution ceased;

Down dropp'd the leg, from her slack hand released:

The mingled fluids from the base redound;

The vase reclining floats the floor around!

Smiles dew'd with tears the pleasing strife express'd

Of grief, and joy, alternate in her breast.

Her fluttering words in melting murmurs died;

At length abrupt — "My son! — ^my king! " she cried.

Her nap ended, Penelope resumes her conversation with
the beggar, telling him she has been favored by a dream
portending the death of the suitors. Still, she realizes there
are two kinds of dreams, — those that come true issuing
from Somnus' palace by the gate of horn, while deceptive
dreams pass through an ivory gate. After providing for
the beggar's comfort, Penelope retires, and as usual spends
most of the night mourning for her absent partner.

THE ODYSSEY 59

Book XX. Sleeping beneath Uie portico on the skins
of the animals slain to feast the horde of suitors, Ulysses
sees the maids slip out of the palace to join the suitors, who
have wooed them surreptitiously. Then he falls asleep and
is visited by Minerva, who infuses new strength and cour-
age in his veins. At dawn Ulysses is awakened by Tele-
machus, and soon after the house is once more invaded
by the suitors, who with their own hands slay the animals
provided for their food. Once more they display their
malevolence by ill treating the beggar, and taunt Tele-
maehus, who apparently pays no heed to their words.

Booh XXI. Meantime Minerva has prompted Penelope
to propose to the suitora to string Ulysses' bow and shoot
an arrow through twelve rings. Armed with this weapon,
and followed by handmaids bearing bow, string, and arrows,
Penelope appears in the banquet-hall, where the suitors
eagerly accept her challenge. But, after Antinous has
vainly striven to bend the bow, the others warily try sundry
devices to ensure its pliancy.

Meantime, noticing that the swineherd and one of his
companions — ^upon whose fidelity he counts — ^have left the
hall, Ulysses follows them, makes himself known by means
of his scar, and directs them what to do. Then, returning
into the hall, he silently watches the suitors' efforts to
bend the bow, and, when the last has tried and failed,
volunteers to make the attempt, thereby rousing ger-eral
ridicule. All gibes are silenced, however, when the beggar
not only spans the bow, but sends his first arrow through
the twelve rings. At the same time the faithful servants
secure the doors of the apartment, and Telemachus, dart-
ing to his father's side, announces he is ready to take part
in the fray.

BooTi XXII.

Then fierce the hero o'er the threshold strode;
Stript of his rags, he blazed out like a god.
Full in their face the lifted bow he bore,
And quiver'd deaths, a, formidable store;
Before his feet the, rattling shower he threw.
And thus, terrific, to the suitor-crew:

60 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

." Une venturous game this hand hath won to-day;
Another, princes! yet remains to play:
Another mark our arrow must attain.
Phoebus, assist! nor be the labor vain.''
Swift as the word the parting arrow sings;
And bears thy fate, Antinous, on its wings.
Wretch that he was, of unprophetic soul!
High in. his hands he rear'd the golden bowl :
E'en then to drain it lengthen'd out his breath;
Changed to the deep, the bitter draught of death!
For fate who f ear'd amidst a feastful band ?
And fate to numbers, by a single hand?
Full through his throat Ulysses' weapon pass'd, _
And pierced his neck. He falls, and breathes his last.

Grimly announcing his second arrow will reach a differ-
ent goal by Apollo's aid, Ulysses shoots the insolent Antin-
ous through the heart and then begins to taunt and threaten
the other suitors. Gazing wildly around them for weapons
or means of escape, these men discover how cleverly they
have been trapped. One after another now falls beneath
the arrows of Ulysses, who bids his son hasten to the store-
room and procure arms for them both as there are not
arrows enough to dispose of his foes. Through Telemachus'
heedlessness in leaving the doors open, the suitors contrive
to secure weapons too, and the fight in the hall rages until
they all have been slain. Then the doors are thrown open,
and the faithless maids are compelled to remove the corpses
and purify the room, before they are hanged!

Book XXIII. The old nurse has meantime had the
privilege of announcing Ulysses' safe return to his faith-
ful retainers, and last of all to the sleeping Penelope.
Unable to credit such tidings, — although the nurse assures
her she has seen his sear, — Penelope imagines the suitors
must have been slain by some god who has come to her
rescue. She decides, therefore, to go down and congratu-
late her son upon being rid of those who preyed upon his
wealth. Seeing she does not immediately fall upon his
father's neck, Telemachus hotly reproaches her, but she
rejoins she must have some proof of the stranger's identity
and is evidently repelled by his unprepossessing appear-
ance. Hearing this, Ulysses suggests that all present purify

THE ODYSSEY 61

themselves, don fresh garments, and partake of a feast,
enlivened by the songs of their bard. While he is attended
by the old nurse, Minerva sheds upon him such grace that,
when he reappears, looking like a god, he dares reproach
Penelope for not recognizing him. Then, hearing her order
that his bed be removed to the portico, he hotly demands
who cut down the tree which formed one of its posts?
Because this fact is known only to Penelope and to the
builder of the bed, she now falls upon Ulysses' neck, begging
his pardon. Their joy at being united is marred only by
Ulysses' determination soon to resume his travels, and pur-
sue them until Tiresias' prediction has been fulfilled. That
night is spent in mutual confidences in regard to all that
has occurred during their twenty years' separation, and
when morning dawns Ulysses and his son go to visit Laertes.
Book XXIV. Mindful of his office as conductor of
souls to Hades, Mercury has meanwhile entered the palace
of Ulysses, and, waving his wand, has summoned the spirits
of the suitors, who, uttering plaintive cries, follow him
down to the infernal regions.

Cyllenius now to Pluto's dreary reign

Conveys the dead, a lamentable train!

The golden wand, that causes sleep to fly,

Or in soft slumber seals the wakeful eye.

That drives the ghosts to realms of night or day.

Points out the long uncomfortable way.

Trembling the spectres glide, and plaintive vent

Thin hollow screams, along the deep descent.

As in the cavern of some rifty den,

Where flock nocturnal bats and birds obscene,

Cluster'd they hang, till at some sudden shock,

They move, and murmurs run through all the rock:

So cowering fled the sable heaps of ghosts;

And such a scream fiU'd all the dismal coasts.

There they overhear Ajax giving Achilles a minute
account of his funeral, — ^the grandest ever seen, — and when
questioned describe Penelope's stratagem in regard to the
web and to Ulysses' bow.

Meanwhile Ulysses has arrived at his father's farm,
where the old man is busy among his trees. To prepare

62 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

Laertes for his return, Ulysses relates one of his fairy
tales ere he makes himself known. Like Penelope, Laertes
proves iacredulous, until Ulysses points out the trees given
him when a child and exhibits his scar.

Smit with the signs which all his doubts explain.
His heart within him melts; his knees sustain
Their feeble weight no more; his arms alone
Support him, round the loved Ulysses thrown:
He faints, he sinks, with mighty joys oppreas'd:
Ulysses clasps him to his eager breast.

To celebrate their reunion, a banquet is held, which per-
mits the Ithacans to show their joy at their master's return.
Meanwhile the friends of the suitors, having heard of the
massacre, determine to avenge them by slaying father and
son. But, aided by Minerva and Jupiter, these two heroes
present so formidable an appearance, that the attacking
party concludes a treaty, which restores peace to Ithaca
and ends the Odyssey.

LATIN EPICS

Latin literature took its source in the Greek, to which
it owes much of its poetio beauty, for many of its master-
pieces are either translations or imitations of the best Greek
writings. There have been, for instance, numerous trans-
lations of the Iliad and Odyssey, the first famous one being
by the "father of Roman dramatic and epic poetry," Livius
Andronicus, who lived in the third century B.C. He also
attempted to narrate Roman history in the same strain, by
composing an epic of some thirty-five books, which are lost.

Another poet, Naevius, a century later composed the
Cyprian Iliad, as well as a heroic poem on the first Punic
war (Bellum Punicum), of which only fragments have
come down to us. Then, in the second century before our
ora, Bnnius made a patriotic attempt to sing the origin of
Rome in the Annales in eighteen books, of which only parts
remain, while Hostius wrote an epic entitled Istria, which
has also perished. Lucretius' epic "On the Nature of
Things" is considered an example of the astronomical or
physical epic.

The Augustan age proved rich in epic poets, such as
Publius Terentius Varro, translator of the Argonautica
and author of a poem on Julius Caesar; Lucius Varius
Rufus, whose poems are lost; and, greatest of all, Virgil,
of whose latest and greatest work, the Aeneid, a complete
synopsis follows. Next to this greatest Latin poem ranks
Lucan's Pharsalia, wherein he relates in ten books the
rivalry between Caesar and Pompey, while his contemporary
Statius, in his Thebais and unfinished Achilleis, works over
the time-honored cycles of Thebes and Troy. During the
same period Silius Italicus supplied a lengthy poem on the
second Punic war, and Valerius Flaccus a new translation
or adaptation of the Argonautica.

In the second century of our own era Quintius Curtius
epmposed an epic on Alexander, and in the third century

63

64 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

Juvencus penned the first Christian epic, using the Life
of Christ as his theme. In the fifth century Claudianus
harked back to the old Greek myths of the battle of the
Giants and of the Abduction of Persephone, although by
that time Christianity was well established in Italy. From
that epoch Roman literature practically ceased to exist,
for although various attempts at Latin epics were made
by mediaeval poets, none of them proved of suflScient merit
to claim attention here.

THE AENEID

Book I. After stating he is about to sing the deeds of
the heroic ancestor of the Romans, Virgil describes how,
seven years after escaping from burning Troy, Aeneas'
fleet was overtaken by a terrible storm off the coast of
Africa. This tempest, raised by the turbulent children of
Aeolus at Juno's request, threatened before long to destroy
the Trojan fleet. But, disturbed by the commotion over-
head and by Aeneas' frantic prayers for help, Neptune
suddenly arose from the bottom of the sea, angrily ordered
the winds back to their cave, and summoned sea-nymphs
and tritons to the Trojans' aid. Soon, therefore, seven of
the vessels came to anchor in a sheltered bay, where Aeneas
landed with his friend Achates. While reconnoitring, they
managed to kill seven stags with which to satisfy the
hunger of the men, whom Aeneas further cheered by the
assurance that they were the destined ancestors of a mighty
people.

Meantime Venus, beholding the plight of her son
Aeneas, had hastened! off to Olympus to remind Jupiter of
his promise to protect the remnant of the Trojan race.
Bestowing a kiss, the King of the Gods assured her that
after sundry vicissitudes Aeneas would reach Italy, where
in due time his son would found Alba Longa. Jupiter
added a brief sketch of what would befall this hero's race,
until, some three hundred years after his death, one of his
descendants, the Vestal Ilia, would bear twin sons to

THE AENEID 65

Mars, god of War. One of these, Romulus, would found
the city of Rome, where the Trojan race would continue
its heroic career and where Caesar would appear to fill the
world with his fame.

"From Troy's fair stock shall Caesar rise,
The limits of whose victories
Are ocean, of his fame the skies.'"

Having thus quieted Venus' apprehensions in regard to
her son, Jupiter dirtected Mercury to hasten off to Carthage
so as to warn Dido she is to receive hospitably the Trojan
guests.

After a sleepless night Aeneas again set out with
Achates to explore, and encountered in the forest his
goddess mother in the guise of a Tyrian huntress. In
respectful terms — for he suspected she was some divinity
in disguise — ^Aeneas begged for information and learned
he has landed in the realm of Dido. Warned in a vision
that her brother had secretly slain her husband and was
plotting against her life, this Tyrian queeti had fled from
Tyre with friends and wealth, and, on reaching this part
of Africa, had, thanks to the clever device of a bull's hide,
obtained land enough to found the city of Byrsa or Caii;h-
age. In return Aeneas gave the strange huntress his name,
relating how the storm had scattered all his vessels save
the seven anchored close by. To allay his anxiety in regard
to his friends, Venus assured him that twelve swans flying
overhead were omens of the safety of his ships, and it was
only when she turned to leave him that Aeneas recognized
his mother, who, notwithstanding his desire to embrace her,
promptly disappeared.

The two Trojans now walked on in the direction she
indicated until dazzled by the beauty of the new city of
Carthage, which was rising rapidly, thanks to the activity
of Dido's subjects. In its centre stood a wonderful temple,
whose brazen gates were decorated with scenes from the

>A11 the quotations in this article are from Virgil's Aeneid,
Conington's translation.
5

66 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

"War of Troy. Hidden from all eyes by a divine mist,
Aeneas and Achates tearfully gazed upon these reminders
of the glories past and mingled with the throng until Queen
Dido appeared.

She was no sooner seated upon her throne than she sum-
moned into her presence some prisoners just secured, in
whom Aeneas recognized with joy the vajious captains of
his missing ships. Then he overheard them bewail the storm
which robbed them of their leader, and was pleased because
Dido promised them entertainment and ordered a search
made for their chief.

The right moment having come, the cloud enveloping
Aeneas and Achates parted, ajid Dido thus suddenly be-
came aware of the presence of other strangers in their
midst. Endowed by Venus with special attractions so as
to secure the favor of the Libyan queen, Aeneas stepped
gracefully forward, made himself known, and, after paying
due respect to the queen, joyfully greeted his comrades.
Happy to harbor, so famous a warrior. Dido invited Aeneas
to a banquet in her palace, an invitation he gladly accepted,
charging Achates to hasten back to the ships to announce
their companions' safety and to summon lulus or Ascanius
to join his father. To make quite sure Aeneas should
captivate Dido's heart, Venus now substituted Cupid for
lulus, whom she meantime conveyed to one of her favorite
resorts. It was therefore in the guise of the Trojan prince
that Cupid, during the banquet, caressingly nestled in
Dido's arms and stealthily effaced from her heart all traces
of her former husband's face, filling it instead with a re-
sistless passion for Aeneas, which soon impelled her to
invite him to relate his escape from Troy.

Book II. With the eyes of all present upon him, Aeneas
related how the Greeks finally devised a colossal wooden
horse, wherein their bravest chiefe remained concealed
while the remainder of their forces pretended to sail home,
although they anchored behind a neighboring island to
await the signal to return and sack Troy. Overjoyed by
the departure of the foe, the Trojans hastened down to the

THE AENEID 67

shore, where, on discovering the huge wooden horse, they
joyfully proposed to drag it into their city as a trophy. In
vain their priest, Laocoon, implored them to desist, hurling
his spear at the horse to prove it was hollow and hence
might conceal some foe. This daring and apparent sacrilege
horrified the Trojans, who, having secured a Greek fugitive
in a swamp near by, besought him to disclose what purpose
the horse was to serve. Pretending to have suffered great
injustice at the Greeks' hands, the slave (Sinon) replied
that if they removed the wooden horse into their walls the
Trojans would greatly endajiger the safety of their foes,
who had left it on the shore to propitiate Neptune. Enticed
by this prospect, the Trojans proved more eager than ever
to dra^ the horse into their city, even though it necessitated
pulling down part of their* walls. Meantime part of the
crowd gathered about Laocoon who was to offer public
thanks on the seashore, but, even while he wa^ standing at
the altar, attended by his sons, two huge seirpents arose
out of the sea and, coiling fiercely around priest and both
acolytes, throttled them in spite of their efforts.

He strains his strength their knots to tear.
While gore and slime his fillets smear.
And to the unregardful skies
Sends up his agonizing cries.

On seeing this, the horror-struck Trojans immediately con-
cluded Laooobn was being punished for having attacked
the woodten horse, which they joyfully dragged into Troy,
although the prophet-princess, Cassandra, besought them
to desist, foretelling all manner of woe.

Night now fell upon the city^ where, for the first time
in ten years, aU slept peacefully without fear of surprise.
At midnight Sinon released the captive Greeks from the
wooden steed, and, joined by their companions, who had
noiselessly returned, they swarmed all over the undtef ended
city. Aeneas graphically described for Dido's benefit his
peaceful sleep, when the phantom of the slaughtered Hector
bade him arise and flee with his family, because the Greeks

68 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

had already taken possession of Troy ! At this moment loud
clamors awakened him, confirming what he had just heard
in dream. Aeneas immediately rushed to the palace to
defend his king, he and his men stripping the armor from
fallen Greeks to enable them to get there unmolested. Still,
they arrived only in time to see Achilles' son rush into the
throne-room and cruelly murder the aged Priam after kill-
ing his youngest son. They also beheld the shrieking women
ruthlessly dragged off into captivity, Cassandra wUdly
predicting the woes which would befall the Greek chiefs on
their way home.

Ah see! the Priameian fair,
Cassandra, by her streaming hair

Is dragged from Pallas' shrine,
Her wild eyes raised to Heaven in vain —
Her eyes, alas ! for cord^; and chain

Her tender hands confine.

The fall of aged Priam and the plight of the women re-
minding Aeneas of the danger of his own father, wife, and
son, he turned to rush home. On his way thither he met
his mother, who for a moment removed the mortal veil
from his eyes, to let him see Neptune, Minerva, and Juno
zealously helpiag to ruin Troy. Because Venus passion-
ately urged her son to escape while there was yet time,
Aeneas, on reaching home, besought his father Anchises to
depart, but it was only when the old man saw a bright
flame hover over the head of his grajidson, lulus, that he
realized heaven intended to favor his race and consented
to leave. Seeing him too weak to walk, his son bade him
hold the household goods, and carried him off on his back,
leading his boy by the hand and calling to his wife and
servants to follow. Thus burdened, Aeneas reached a ruined
fane by the shore, only to discover his beloved wife was
missing. Anxiously retracing his footsteps, he encountered
her shade, which bade him cease seeking for her among the
living and hasten to Hesperia, where a new wife and home
awaited him.

THE AENEID 69

"Then, while I dewed with tears my cheek
And strove a thousand things to speak,

She melted into night:
Thrice I essayed her neck to clasp:
Thrice the vain semblance mocked my grasp,
As wind or slumber light."

Thus enlightened in regard to his consort's fate and wishes,
Aeneas hastened back to his waiting companions, and with
them prepared to leave the Trojan shores.

Book III. Before long Aeneas' fleet landed on the
Thracian coast, where, while preparing a sacrifice, our hero
was horrified to see blood flow from the trees he cut down.
This phenomenon was, however, explained by an under-
ground voice, relating how a Trojan was robbed and slain
by the inhabitants of this land, and how trees had sprung
from the javelins stuck in his breast.

Unwilling to linger in such a neighborhood, Aeneas
sailed to Delos, where an oracle informed him he would
be able to settle only in the land whence his ancestors had
come. Although Anchises interpreted this to mean they
were to go to Crete, the household gods informed Aeneas,
during the journey thither, that Hesperia was their
destined goal. After braving a three-days tempest, Aeneas
landed on the island of the Harpies, horrible monsters who
defiled the travellers' food each time a meal was spread.
They not only annoyed Aeneas in this way, but predicted,
when attacked, that he should find a home only when driven
by hunger to eat boards.

" But ere your town with walls ye fence,
Fierce famine, retribution dread
For this your murderous violence,

Shall make you eat your boards for bread."

Sailing off again, the Trojans next reached Epirus,
which they found governed by Helenus, a Trojan, for
Achilles' son had already been slain. Although Hector's
widow was now queen of the realm where she had been
brought a captive, she still mourned for her noble hus-
band, and gladly welcomed the fugitives for his sake. It was

70 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

during the parting sacrifice that Helenns" predicted that,
after long wanderings, his guests would settle in Italy, in
a spot where they would find a white sow suckling thirty
young. He also cautionedj Aeneas about the hidden dangers
of Charybdis and Seylla, and bade him visit the C'umaean
Sibyl, so as to induce her, if possible, to lend him her aid.

Restored and refreshed by this brief sojourn among
kinsmen, Aeneas and his followers resumed their journey,
steering by the stars and avoiding all landing in eastern or
southern Italy which was settled by Greeks. After passing
Charybdis aud Seylla unharmed, and after gazing in awe
at the plume of smoke crowning Mt. Aetna, the Trojans
rescued one of the Greeks who had escaped with Ulysses
from the Cyclops' cave but who had not contrived to sail
away.

To rest his weary men, Aeneas finally landed at
Drepaniun, in Sicily, where his old father died and was
buried with all due pomp. It was shortly after leaving
this place, that Aeneas' fleet had been overtaken by the
terrible tempest which had driven his vessels to Dido's
shore.

So King Aeneas told his tale

While all beside were still,
Rehearsed the fortunes of his sail

And fate's mysterious will:
Then to its close his legend brought
And gladly took the rest he sought.

Book IV. While Aeneas rested peacefully. Dido's new-
bom passion kept her awake, causing her at dawn to rouse
her sister Anna, so as to impart to her the agitated state
of her feelings. Not only did Anna encourage her sister
to marry again, but united with her in a prayer to which
Venus graciously listened, although Juno reminded her that
Trojans and Carthaginians were destined to be foes. Still,
as Goddess of Marriage, Juno finally consented that Aeneas
and Dido be brought together in the course of that day's
hunt.

We now have a description of the sunrise, of the prepara-

THE AENEID 71

tions for the chase, of the queen's dazzling appearance,
and of the daring huntsmanship of the false lulus. But
the brilliant hunting expedition is somewhat marred in
the middle of the day by a sudden thunderstorm, during
which Aeneas and Dido accidentally seek refuge in the
same cave, where we are given to understand their union
takes place. So momentous a step, proclaimed by the
hundred-mouthed Goddess of Fame, rouses the ire of the
native chiefs, one of whom fervently hopes Carthage may
rue having spared these Trojan refugees. This prayer is
duly registered by Jupiter, who further bids Mercury
remind Aeneas his new realm is to be founded in Italy
and not on the African coast !

Thus divinely ordered to leave, Aeneas dares not dis-
obey, but, dreading Dido's reproaches and tearsi, he pre-
pares to depart secretly. His plans are, however, detected
by Dido, who vehemently demands how he dares forsake
her now? By Jupiter's orders, Aeneas remains unmoved
by her reproaches, and sternly reminds her that he always;
declared he was bound for Italy. So, leaving Dido to brood
over her wrongs, Aeneas hastens down to the shore to
hasten his preparations for departure. Seeing this, Dido
implores her sister to detain her lover, and, as this proves
vain, orders a pyre erected, on which she places all the
objects Aeneas has used.

That night the gods arouse Aeneas from slumber to
bid him sail without taking leave of the Tyrian queen. In
obedience to this command, our hero cuts with his sword
the rope which moors his vessel to the Carthaginian shore,
and sails away, closely followed by the rest of his fleet.
Prom the watch-tower at early dawn. Dido discovers his
vanishing sails', and is so overcome by grief that, after rend-
ing ' ' her golden length of hair "and calling down vengeance
upon Aeneas, she stabs herself and breathes her last in the
midst of the burning pyre. The Cartha^nians, little .ex-
pecting so tragical a denouement, witness the agony of
their beloved queen in speechless horror, while Anna wails
aloud. Gazing down from heaven upon this sad scene.

72 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

Juno directs Iris to hasten down and cut off a lock of
Dido's hair, for it is only when this mystic ceremony has
been performed that the soul can leave the body. Iris
therefore speedily obeys, saying:

" This lock to Dis I bear away
And free you from your load of clay: "
So shears the lock: the vital heats
Disperse, and breath in air retreats.

Book V. Sailing on, Aeneas, already dismayed by the
smoke rising from the Carthaginian shore, is further
troubled by rapidly gathering clouds. His weather-wise
pilot, Palinurus, suggests that, since. "the west is darkening
into wrath," they run into the Drepanum harbor, which
they enter just one year after Anchises' death. There
they show due respect to the dead by a sacrifice, of which a
serpent takes his tithe, and proceed to celebrate funeral
games. We now have a detailed account of the winning
of prizes for the naval, foot, horse and chariot races, and
the boxing and archery matches.

While all the men are thus congenially occupied, the
Trojan women, instigated by Juno in disguise, set fire to
the ships, so they need no longer wander over seas they
have learned to loathe. One of the warriors, seeing the
smoke, raises the alarm, and a moment later his companions
dash down to the shore to save their ships. Seeing his
fleet in flames, Aeneas wrings his hands, and prays with
such fervor that a cloudburst drenches his burning vessels.
Four, however, are beyond repair ; so Aeneas, seeing he no
longer has ship-room for all his force, allows the Trojans
most anxious to rest to settle in Drepanum, taking with
him only those who are willing to share his fortunes.

Before he leaves, his father's ghost appears to him,
bidding him, before settling in Latium, descend into Hades
by way of Lake Avemus, and visit him in the Elysian
Fields to hear what is to befall his race.

When Aeneas leaves Drepanum on the next day, his
mother pleads so successfully in his behalf that Neptune
promises to exact only one life as toll.

THE AENEED 73

" One life alone shall glut the wave;
One head shall fall the rest to save.''

Book VI. Steering to Comae, where the Sibyl dwells,
Aeneas seeks her cave, whose entrance is barred by bronzen
gates, on which is represented the story of Daedalus, —
the first bird man, — ^who, escaping from the Labyrinth at
Crete, gratefully laid his wings on this altar. "We are
further informed that the Sibyl generally wrote her oracles
on separate oak leaves, which were set in due order in her
cave, but which the wind, as soon as the doors opened,
scattered or jumbled together, so that most of her pre-
dictions proved unintelligible to those who visited her
shrine. After a solemn invocation, Aeneas besought her
not to baffle him by writing on oak leaves, and was favored
by her apparition and the announcement that, after escap-
ing sundry perils by land and sea and reddening the Tiber
with blood, he would, thanks to Greek aid, triumph, over
his foes and settle in Latium with a new bride. Undaunted
by the prospect of these trials, Aeneas besought the Sibyl
to guide him down to Hades, to enable him to visit his
father, a journey she flatly recused to undertake, unless
he procured the golden bough which served as a key to
that region, and unless he showed due respect to the
corpse of his friend. Although both conditions sounded
mysterious when uttered, Aeneas discovered, on rejoining
his crew, that one of his Trojans had been slain. After
celebrating his funeral, our hero wandered off into a neigh-
boring forest, where some doves — ^his mother's birds —
guided him to the place where grew the golden bough he
coveted.

Armed with this talisman and escorted by the Sibyl,
Aeneas, by way of Lake Avemus, entered the gloomy cave
which formed the entrance to Hades. Following the fly-
ing footsteps of his mystic guide, he there plunged into
the realm of night, soon reaching the precinct of departed
souls, where he saw innumerable shades. Although he
immediately crossed the river in Charon's leaky punt, many
spirits were obliged to wait a hundred years, simply because

74 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

they could not pay for their passage. Among these un-
fortunates Aeneas recognized his recently drowned pilot,
who related how he had come to his death and by what
means he was going to secure funeral honors.

In spite of the thre&-headed dog and sundry other grew-
some sights, Aeneas and his guide reached the place where
Minos holds judgment over arriving souls, and viewed the
region where those who died for love were herded together.
Among these ghosts was Dido, but, although Aeneas pity-
ingly addressed her, she sullenly refused to answer a word.
Farther on Aeneas came to the place of dead heroes, and
there beheld brave Hector and clever Teucer, together with
many other warriors who took part in the Trojan War.

- After allowing him to converse a brief while with these
friends, the Sibyl vouchsafed Aeneas a passing glimpse of
Tartarus and of its great criminals, then she hurried him
on to the Elysian Fields, the home of ' ' the illustrious dead,
who fighting for their country bled," to inquire for
Anchises. The visitors were immediately directed to a
quiet valley, where they found the aged Trojan, pleasantly
occupied contemplating the unborn souls destined to pass
gradually into the upper world and animate the bodies of
his progeny. On beholding his son, who, as at Drepanum,
vainly tried to embrace him, Anchises revealed all he had
learned in regard to life, death, and immortality, and gave
a synopsis of the history of Rome for the next thousand
years, naming its great worthies, from Romulus, founder
of Rome, down to Augustus, first emperor and ruler of the
main part of the world.

This account of the glories and vicissitudes of his race
takes considerable time, and when it is finished the Sibyl
guides Aeneas back to earth by one of the two gates which
lead out of this dismal region. Pleased with having accom-
plished his errand so successfully and duly encouraged by
all he has learned, Aeneas returns to his fleet and sets sail
for the home he is so anxious to reach.

Book VII. We now skirt with Aeneas the west coast
of Italy, sail past Circe's island, and see his ships driven

THE AENEID 75

up the -winding Tiber by favorable winds. On his first
landing the Muse Erato rehearses for our benefit the his-
tory of the Latins, whose royal race, represented at present
by Latinus, claims to descend from Saturn. Although
Latinus has already betrothed his daughter Lavinia to
Tumus, a neighboring prince, he is favored by an omen
at the moment when the Trojans laud. On seeking ail
interpretation of this sign, he learns he is not to bestow
his daughter upon Tumus, but is to reserve her hand for
a stranger, whose descendants will be powerful indeed.

Meantime the Trojans feast upon meat which is served
to each man on a wheaten cake. Young lulus, greedily
devouring his, exclaims playfuUy that he is so hungry he
has actually eaten the board on which has meal was spread !
Hearing these significant words, his happy father exclaims
they have reached their destined goal, since the Harpies'
terrifying prophecy has been fulfilled.

"Hail, auspicious land! " he cries,

"So long from Fate my due!
All hail, ye Trojan deities,

To Trojan fortunes true!
At length we rest, no more to roam.
Here is our country, here our home."

Then the Trojans begin to explore, and, discovering
Latinus' capital, send thither an embassy of a hundred
men, who axe hospitably entertained. After hearing all
they have to say, Latinus assures them that men of his
race once migrated from Asia, and that the gods have just
enjoined upon him. to bestow his daughter upon a foreign
bridegroom. When he proposes to unite Lavinia to Aeneas,
Juno, unable to prevent a marriage decreed by Fate, tries
to postpone it by infuriating Amata, mother of the bride,
and causing her to flee into the woods with her daughter.
Not satisfied with one manifestation of power, Juno
despatches Discord to ask Turnus if he will tamely allow
his promised bride to be given to another man? Such a
taunt is sufficient to determine hot-headed Tumus to make
war, but, as a pretext is lacking, one of the Furies prompts

76 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

lulus to pursue and wound the pet stag of a young shep-
herdess called Sylvia. The distress of this rustic maid so
excites her shepherd brothers that they fall upon the Tro-
jans, who, of course, defend themselves, and thus the con-
flict begins. Having successfully broken the peace, Dis-
cord hastens back to Juno, who, seeing Latinus would fain
remain neutral, compels him to take part in the war by
opening with her own hand the gates of the temple of Janus.
Here the poet recites the names of the various heroes about
to distinguish themselves on either side, specially men-
tioning in the Rutules' force Mezentius, his son Lausus,
and the Volseian maid Camilla, who prefers the stirring
life of a eamp to the peaceful avocations of her sex.

Book Yin. Because Turnus is reinforced by many
allies, Aeneas is anxious to secure some too, and soon sets
out to seek the aid of Evander, king of Etruria, formerly
a Greek. On his way to this realm, Aeneas perceives on
the banks of the Tiber a white sow with thirty young, which
he sacrifices to the gods in gratitude for having pointed out
to him the spot where his future capital will rise. On
reaching the Etruscan's stronghold, Aeneas readily secures
the promise of a large contingent of warriors, who prepare
to join him under the command of Pallas, son of the king.
He then assists at a great Etruscan banquet in honor of
one of Hercules' triumphs, and while he is sleeping there
his mother, Venus, induces her blacksmith husband, Vulcan,
to make him a suit of armor.

Dawn having appeared, Evander entertains his guests
with tales, while his son completes his preparations.
Aeneas' departure, however, is hastened by Venus, who
warns her son that his camp is in danger when she delivers
to him the armor she has procured. This is adorned by
many scenes in the coming history of Rome, among-which
special mention is made of the twins suckled by the tra-
ditional wolf, of the kidnapping of the Sabines, and of the
heroic deeds of Codes, Cloelia, and Manlius, as well as
battles and festivals galore.*

' See the author's " Story of the Romans."

THE AENEID 77

Booh IX. Meantime, obedient to Tumus' orders, the
Rutules have surrounded the Trojan camp and set fite to
Aeneas' ships. But, as Pate has decreed these vessels shall
be immortal, they sink beneath the waves as soon as the
flames touch them, only to reappear a moment later as ocean-
nymphs and swim down the Tiber to warn Aeneas of the
danger of his friends. This miracle awes the foe, until
Turnus boldly interprets it in his favor, whereupon the
Rutules attack the foreigners' camp so furiously that the
Trojans gladly accept the proposal made by Nisus and
Euryalus to slip out and summon Aeneas to return.

Stealing out of the Trojan camp by night, these two
heroes bravely thread their way through their sleeping
foes, killing sundry famous warriors as they go, and ap-
propriating choice bits of their spoil. Leaving death in
their wake, the two Trojans pass through the enemy's
ranks and finally enter a forest, where they are pursued
by a troop of the Volscians, who surround and slay
Euryalus. But, although Nisus first manages to escape
from their hands, he returns to defend his comrade and
is slain too. The Volscians therefore bear two bloody heads
to the Rutules camp to serve as their war standards on the
next day. It is thus that Euryalus' mother becomes aware
of the death of her son, whom she mourns in t(Hiching
terms.

" Was it this, ah me,
I followed over land and sea?
O slay me, Rutules! if ye know
A mother's love, on me bestow

The tempest of your spears!
Or thou, great Thunderer, pity take,
And whelm me 'neath the Stygian lake.
Since otherwise I may not break

This life of bitter tears! "

To recount all the deeds of valor performed on this
day would require much space, but, although Mars in-
spires the party of Aeneas with great courage, it is evi-
dently on the verge of defeat when Jupiter orders Tumus
to withdraw.

78 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

Book X. Having convoked his Olympian council, Jupiter
forbids the gods to interfere on either side, and decrees
that the present quarrel S'hall be eettled without divine
aid. Hearing this, Venus vehemently protests that, having
promised her son should found a new realm in Italy, he
is bound to protect him, while Juno argues with equal force
that the Trojans should be further punished for kidnapping
Helen. Silencing both goddesses, Jupiter reiterates' his
orders and dissolves the assembly.

The scene now changes back to earth, where the Trojans,
closely hemmed in by foes, long for Aeneas' return. He,
on his way back, encounters the sea-nymphs, who explain
they were once his ships and bid him hasten and rescue his
son. Thus admonished, Aeneas hurries back, to take part
in a battle where many heroic deeds are performed, and
where Tumus, Mezentius, and Lausus prove bravest on the
enemy's side, although they find their match in Aeneas,
Pallas, and lulus. Among the briUiant duels fought, men-
tion must be made of one between Pallas and Tumus, where
notwithstanding his courage the Trojan prince succumbs.
After stripping his companion of his armor, Tumus
abandons his corpse to his friends, who mourn to think that
he lost his life while helping them. Vowing to avenge him,
Aeneas next attacks his foe with such fury, that it seems
as if Tumus' last day has come, but Juno pleads so
eloquently in his behalf, that, although Pate has decreed
he shall perish, she grants him brief respite.

To preserve Tumus from the deadly blows of the> real
Aeneas, Juno causes him to pursue a phantom foe on board
a ship, whose moorings she loosens, thuiS setting him adrift
upon the Tiber. Perceiving only then how he has been
tricked, Tumus threatens to slay himself, but is restrained
by Juno, who after awhile allows him to land and return
to the battle. Thus deprived of his principal foe, Aeneas
ranges over the battlefield, where he wounds Mezentius and
kills Lausus. Seeing his beloved son is gone, Mezentius
is so anxious to die that he now offers an unresisting throat
to Aeneas, who slays him on the spot.

THE AENEID 79

"One boon (if vanquished foe may crave
The victor's grace) I ask — ^a grave.
My wrathful subjects round me wait:
Protect me from their savage hate.
And let me in the tomb enjoy
The presence of my slaughtered boy."

Booh XI. Having made a trophy of the enemies' spoil,
Aeneas, even before proceeding to bury his ovm comrades,
adorns the body of Pallas and sends it back to Etruria.
Then he bai^ains with Tumns' ambassadors for a twelve-
days truce, during which both parties celebrate pompous
funerals, the finest of all being that of Pallas.

Hoping to check further bloodshed, Latinus now pro-
poses a peace, whose terms Aeneas is wiUing to accept, but
which Tumus angrily rejects since they deprive him of
his promised bride. The conflict is therefore resumed, and
the next interesting episode refers to Camilla, the warrior
maid, whose father when she was only a babe tied her to
the shaft of his spear and flung her across a torrent he was
unable to stem with her in his arms. Having thus saved
her from the enemy's clutches, this father taught Camilla
to fight so bravely, that she causes dire havoc among the
Trojans before she dies, using her last breath to implore
Tumus to hasten to the rescue.

"Go: my last charge to Tur'nus tell.
To haste with succor, and repel
The Trojans from the town — farewell."
She spoke, and speaking, dropped her rein.
Perforce descending to the plain.
Then by degrees she slips away
From all that heavy load of clay:
Her languid neck, her drowsy head
She droops to earth, of vigor sped:
She lets her martial weapons go:
The indignant soul flies down below.

Book Xn. Unappeased by Latinus' reiterated asser-
tions that he is bestowing Lavinia upon a stranger merely
to obey the gods, or by the entreaties in which Amata now
joins, Turnus still refuses peace. More fighting therefore
ensues, during which Aeneas is wounded in the thigh.

80 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

While his leech is vainly trying to stanch his blood, Venus
drops a magic herb into the water used for bathing his
wounds and thus miraculously cures him. Plunging back
into the fray, which becomes so horrible that Amata brings
Lavinia home and commits suicide, Turnus and Aeneas
finally meet in duel, but, although Juno would fain inter-
fere once more in behalf of her protege, Jupiter refuses to
allow it. But he grants instead his wife 's petition that the
Trojan name and language shall forever be merged into
that of the Latin race.

"Let Latium prosper as she will,
Their thrones let Alban monarchs fill;
Let Eome be glorious on the earth.
The centre of Italian worth;
But fallen Troy be fallen still.
The nation and the name."

Toward the end of this momentous encounter, during
which both heroes indulged in sundry boastful speeches,
a bird warns Tumus that his end is near, and his sister
Juturna basely deserts him. Driven to bay and deprived
of all other weapons, Tumus finally hurls a rock at Aeneas,
who, dodging this missile, deals Mm a deadly wound.
Tumus now pitifully begs for mercy, but the sight of
Pallas' belt, which his foe proudly wears, so angers Aeneas
that, after wrathfuUy snatching it from him, he deals his
foe the deadly blow which ends this epic.

"What! in my friend's dear spoils arrayed

To me for mercy sue?
'Tis Pallas, Pallas guides the blade:
Prom your cursed blood his injured shade

Thus takes atonement due."
Thus as he spoke, his sword he drave

With fierce and fiery blow
Through the broad breast before him spread:
The stalwart limbs grow cold and dead:
One groan the indignant spirit gave,

Then sought the shades below.

FRENCH EPICS

The national epic in France bears the characteristic
name of Chanson de Geste, or song of deed, because the
trouveres in the north and the troubadours in the south
wandered from castle to castle singing the prowesses of
the lords and of their ancestors, whose reputations they
thus made or ruined at will.

In their earliest form these Chansons de Geste were
invariably in verse, but in time the most popular were
turned into lengthy prose romances. Many of the hundred
or more Chansons de Geste still preserved were composed
in the northern dialect, or langue d'oil, and, although
similar epics did exist in the langue d'oc, they have the
"great defect of being lost," and only fragments of
Flamenga, etc., now exist.

There are three great groups or cycles of French epics :
first the Cycle of Fl-anee, dealing specially with Charle-
magne,— the champion of Christianity, — ^who, representing
Christ, is depicted surrounded by twelve peers instead of
twelve disciples. Among these, to carry out the scriptural
analogy, lurks a traitor, Ganelon; so, in the course of the
poems, we are favored with biblical miracles, such as the
sun pausing in its course until pagans can be punished, and
angels appearing to comfort dying knights. The finest
sample of this cycle is without doubt the famous Chanson
de Roland, of which a complete synopsis follows. Other
remarkable examples of this cycle are Aliscans, Raoul de
Cambrai, Garin le Lorrain, Guillaume d 'Orange, Les
Quatre Fils d'Aymon, Ogier le Danois, etc.

Even the character of the hero varies from age to age,
for whereas Charlemagne in the Chanson de Roland —
which dates perhaps as far back as the tenth century — is
a heroic figure, he becomes during later periods, when
vassals rise up against their overlords, — an object of con-
tempt and ridicule. A marked example of this latter style
6 81

82 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

of treatment is furnished by Les Quatre PUs d'Aymon.^
The second group, or cycle of Brittany, animated by a
chivalrous spirit, and hence termed court epic, finds its
greatest exponent in the poet Chrestien de Troyes, whose
hero Arthur, King of Brittany, gathers twelve knights
around his table, one of whom, Mordred, is to prove
traitor. The principal poems of this cycle are Launcelot
du Lac, Ivain le Chevalier au Lion, Erec and Enide, Mer-
lin, Tristan, and Perceval. These poems all treat of
chivalry and love, and introduce the old pagan passion-
breeding philtre, as well as a whole world of magie and
fairies. These epics will be noticed at greater length when
we treat of the English versions of Arthur and the Elnights
of the Round Table, because many of the poems have been
reworked in modem English and are hence most popular
in that language.

Besides the Chansons de Geste pertaining to various
phases of this theme, the Breton cycle includes many shorter
works termed lais, which also treat of love, and were com-
posed by Marie de France or her successors. The best
known of all these "cante-fables" is the idyllic Aucassin
et Nicolette, of which a full account is embodied iu this
volume.

One of the best samples of the domestic epic in this
cycle is the twelfth century Amis and Amiles, in which
two knights, bom and baptized on the same day, prove so
alike as to become interchangeable. StiU, brought up in
separate provinces, Amis and Amiles meet and become
friends only when knighted by Charlemagne, whose gra-
ciousness toward them rouses the jealousy of the felon
knight Hardr6. When Charlemagne finally offers his niece
to Amiles (who, through modesty, passes her on to Amis) ,
the felon accuses the former of treacherously loving the
king's daughter BeUicent, and thereupon challenges him
to fight. Conscious of not being a traitor, although guilty
of loving the princess, Amiles dares not accept this chal-

iSee the author's " Legends of the Middle Ages.''

FRENCH EPICS 83

lenge, and changes places -with Amis, who personates him
in. the lists. Because Amis thus commits perjury to rescue
his friend from a dilemma, he is in due time stricken with
leprosy, deserted by his wife, and sorely ill treated by his
vassals. After much suffering, he discovers his sole hope
of cure consists in bathing in the blood of the children which
in the meanwhile have been bom to Amiles and to his
princess-wife. When the leper Amis reluctantly reveals
this fact to his friend Amiles, the latter, although broken-
hearted, unhesitatingly slays his children. Amis is imme-
diately cured, and both knights hasten to church together
to return thanks and inform the mother of the death of
her little ones. The princess rushes to theii' chamber to
mourn over their corpses, only tor discover that meantime
they have been miraculously restored to life! This story
is very touchingly told in the old Chanson, which contains
many vivid and interesting descriptions of the manners
of the time.

In this cycle are also included Gerard de Roussillon,
Hugues Capet, Macaire (wherein occurs the famous episode
of the Dog of Montargis), and Huon de Bordeaux, which
latter supplied Shakespeare, Wieland, and Weber with
some of the dramatis personae of their well-known comedy,
poem, and opera. We must also mention what are often
termed the Crusade epics, of which the stock topics are
quarrels, challenges, fights, banquets, and tournaments, and
among which we note les Enfances de Godefroi, Antioche,
and Tudela's Song of the Crusade against the Albigenses.

The third great cycle is known as Matiere de Rome la
grand, or as the antique cycle. It embodies Christianized
versions of the doings of the heroes of the Iliad, Odyssey,
Aeneid, Thebais, Alexandreid, etc. In their prose forms
the Roman de Thebes, Roman de Troie, and Roman
d 'Alexandre contain, besides, innumerable mediaeval em-
belhshments, among others the first mention in French of
the quest for the Fountain of Youth.

Later on in French literature we come across the aninual
epic, or Roman du Renard, a style of composition which

84 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

found its latest and most finished expression in Germany
at the hands of Goethe, and the aUegorieal epic, Le Roman
de la Rose, wherein abstract ideas were personified, such
as Hope, Slander (Malebouche), Danger, etc.

There are also epie poems based on Le Combat des
Trente and on the doings of Du Guesclin. Ronsard, in his
Franciade, claims the Franks as lineal descendants from
Francus, a son of Priam, and thus connects French history
with the war of- Troy, just as Waee, in the Norman Romaa
de Rou, traces a similar analogy between the Trojan Brutus
and Britain. Later French poets have attempted epics,
more or less popular in their time, among which are Alaric
by Scuderi, Clovis by St. Sorlin, and two poems on La
Pucelle, one by Chapelain, and the other by Voltaire.

Next comes la Henriade, also by Voltaire, a half
bombastic, half satirical account of Henry IV's wars
to gain the crown of France. This poem also contains
some very fine and justly famous passages, but is too
long and too artificial, as a whole, to please modem readers.

The most popular of all the French prose epics is, with-
out dispute, Fenelon's Telemaque, or account of Tele-
machus' journeys to find some trace of his long-absent
father Ulysses.

Les Martyrs by Chateaubriand, and La Legende des
Siecles by Victor Hugo, complete the tale of important
French epics to date,

THE SONG OF ROLAND ^

Introduction. The earliest and greatest of the French
epics, or chansons de geste, is the song of Roland, of which
the oldest copy now extant is preserved in the Bodleian
Library and dates back to the twelfth century. Whether
the Turoldus (Theroulde) mentioned at the end of the
poem is poet, copyist, or mere reciter remains a matter of
conjecture.

'Another version of this story can be found in the author's
"JLegends of the Middle Ages."

THE SONG OF ROLAND 85

The poem is evidently based on popular songs which
no longer exist. It consists of 4002 verses, written in
langue d'oil, grouped in stanzas or "laisses" of irregular
length, in the heroic pentameter, having the same assonant
rhyme, and each ending with "aoi," a word no one has
succeeded in translating satisfactorily. It was so popular
that it was translated into Latin and German (1173-1177),
and our version may be the very song sung by Taillefer at
the battle of Hastings in 1066.

It has inspired many poets, and Eoland's death has
been sung again by Goethe, Schiller, Pulei, Boiardo, Ariosto,
Bemi, Bomier, etc. History claims that French armies,
once in the reign of Dagobert and once in that of Charle-
magne, were attacked and slaughtered in the Pyrenees, but
not by the Saracens. Besides, Charlemagne's secretary,
Eginhart, briefly mentions in his chronicles that in 778,
Roland, prefect of the Marches of Brittany, was slain
there.^ Although the remainder of the story has no his-
torical basis, the song of Roland is> a poetical asset we
would not willingly relinquish.

Part I. A Council held by King Mabsile at
Sabagossa. — The Song of Roland opens with the statement
that, after spending seven years in Spain, Charlemagne is
master of all save the city of Saragossa.

The king, our Emperor Carlemaine,
Hath been for seven full years in Spain.
From highland to sea hath he won the land;
City was none might his arm withstand;
Keep and castle alike went down —
Save Saragossa the motmtain town.*

It is in Saragossa that King Marsile, holding an open-
air council, informs his followers he no longer has men
to oppose to the Preneh. When he inquires what he shall
do, the wisest of his advisers suggests that, when might
fails, craft can gain the day. Therefore, he moots sending

' See the author's " Story of Old France."

'All the quotations in this chapter are from John O'Hagen's
translation of the " Song of Eoland."

86 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

gifts to Charlemagne, with a promise to follow him to
France to do homage and receive baptism. Even should
Charlemagne exact hostages, this councillor volunteers to
give his own son, arguing it is better a few should fall than
Spain be lost forever. This advice is adopted by Marsile,
who then despatches bearers of olive branches and gifts to
Charlemagne.

Council held hy Charlemagne at Cordova. The Saracen
emissaries find the French emperor seated on a golden
throne ia an orchard, his peers around him, watching the
martial games of fifty thousand warriors. After receiving
Marsile 's message, Charlemagne dismisses the ambassadors
for the night, promising answer on the morrow. When he
bids his courtiers state their opinions, Roland impetuously
declares that, as Marsile has tricked them once, it would
not become them to believe bini now. His step-father,
Gauelon, thereupon terms him a hot-headed young fool,
and avers he prizes his own glory more than his fellow-
men's lives. The wisest among Charlemagne's advisers,
however, Duke Naimes, argues that the Saracen's offers of
submission should be met half-way, and, as the remainder
of the French agree with him, Charlemagne calls for a
messenger to bear his acceptance to Marsile. Although
Boland, Oliver, and Naimes eagerly sue for this honor,
Charlemagne, unwilling to spare his peers, bids them ap-
point a baron. When Roland suggests his step-father,
Ganelon — who deems the expedition hazardous — ^becomes
so angry that he reviles his step-son in the emperor's pres-
ence, vowing the youth is maliciously sending him to his
death, and muttering he will have revenge. These violent
threats elicit Roland's laughter, but Charlemagne checks
the resulting quarrel by delivering message and emblems
of office to Ganelon. To the dismay of all present, he,
however, drops the glove his master hands him, an accident
viewed as an omen of ill luck. Then, making speedy
preparations and pathetically committing wife and son to
the care of his countrymen, Ganelon starts out, fully ex-
pecting never to return.

THE SONG OP ROLAND 87

The Embassy and the Crime of Ganelon. On his way
to Saragossa, Ganelon converses with the Saracens, who
express surprise that Charlemagne — ^whom they deem two
hundred years old — should still long for conquest. In
return Ganelon assures them his master will never cease
fighting as long as Roland is one of his peers, for this knight
is determined to conquer the world. The Saracens, noticing
his bitter tone, now propose to rid Ganelon of his step-son,
provided he will arrange that Roland command the rear-
guard of the French army. Thus riding along, they devise
the plot whereby this young hero is to be led into an ambush
in the Valley of Roncevaux (RoncesvaUes), where, by slay-
ing him, they will deprive Charlemagne of his main
strength.

" For whoso Koland to death shall bring.
From Karl his good right arm will wring.
The marvellous host will melt away,
No more shall he muster a like array."

Arriving in the presence of the Saracen king, Ganelon
reports Charlemagne ready to accept his offers, provided
he do homage for one half of Spain and abandon the other
to Roland. Because Ganelon adds the threat that, should
this offer be refused, Charlemagne proposes to seize Sara-
gossa and bear Marsile a prisoner to Aix, the Saracen king
angrily orders the execution of the insolent messenger.
But the Ftenchmen's truculent attitude forbids the guards'
approach, and thus gives the ambassadors a chance to in-
form Marsile that Ganelon has promised to help them to
outwit Charlemagne by depriving him of his most efficient
general Hearing this, Marsile 's anger is disarmed; and
he not only agrees to their plan to surprise Roland while
crossing the Pyrenees, but sends Ganelon back laden with
gifts.

On rejoining his master at the foot of the mountains,
Ganelon delivers the keys of Saragossa, and reports that
the caliph has sailed for the Bast, with one hundred thous-
and men, none of whom care to dwell in a Christian land.
Hearing this, Charlemagne, imagining his task finished.

88 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

returns thanks to God, and prepares to wend his way back
to France, where he expects Marsile to follow him and do
homage for Spain.

Karl the Great hath wasted Spain,
Her cities sacked, her castles ta'en;
But now "My wars are done," he cried,
"And home to gentle France we ride."

The Bear-guard amd Roland Condemned to Death. On
the eve of his return to "sweet France," Charlemagne's
rest is disfturbed by horrible dreams, in one of which Ganelon
breaks his lance, while in the other wild animals are about
to attack him. On awaking from this nightmare, Charle-
magne divides his army so as to thread his way safely
through the narrow passes of the mountains, arranging that
a force shall remain twenty miles in his rear to make sure
he shall not be surprised by the foe. When he inquires to
whom this important command shall be entrusted, Ganelon
eagerly suggests that, as Roland is the most valiant of the
peers, the task be allotted to him. Anxious to keep his
nephew by him, Charlemagne resents this suggestion, but,
when he prepares to award the post to some one else, Roland
eagerly claims it, promising France shaU lose nothing
through him.

" God be my judge," was the count's reply,
"If ever I thus my race belie.

But twenty thousand with me shall rest.

Bravest of all your Franks and best;

The mountain passes in safety tread,

While I- breathe in life you have nought to dread."

Because it is patent to all that his step-father proposed Ids
name through spite, Roland meaningly remarks that he at
least will not drop the insignia of his rank, and in proof
thereof proudly clutches the bow Charlemagne hands him,
and boastfully declares twelve peers and twenty thousand
men will prove equal to any emergency.

Fully armed and mounted on his steed (Veillantif ) ,
Roland, from an eminence, watches the vanguard of the

THE SONG OF ROLAND 89

French army disappear in the mountain gorges, calling out
to the last men that he and his troop will follow them soon !
This vanguard is led by Charlemagne and Ganelon, and,
as it passes on, the heavy tramp of the mailed steeds causes
the ground to shake, while the clash of the soldiers' arms
is heard for miles around. They have already travelled
thirty miles and are just nearing France, whose sunny
fields the soldiers greet with cries of joy, when Duke Naimes
perceives tears flowing down the emperor's cheeks, and
learns that they are caused by apprehension for Roland.

High were the peaks, and the valleys deep.

The mountains wondrous dark and steep;

Sadly the Franks through the passes wound.

Fully fifteen leagues did their tread resound.

To their own great land they are drawing nigh.

And they look on the fields of Gascony.

They think of their homes and their manors there,

Their gentle spouses and damsels fair.

Is none but for pity the tear lets fall;

But the anguish of Karl is beyond them all.

His sister's son at the gates of Spain

Smites on his heart, and he weeps amain.

The evident anxiety of Charlemagne fills the hearts of
all Frenchmen with nameless fear, and some of them
whisper that Ganelon returned from Saragossa with sus-
piciously rich gifts. Meantime Roland, who has merely
been waiting for the vanguard to gain some advance, sets
out to cross the mountains too; where, true to his agree-
ment with Ganelon, Marsile has concealed a force of one
hundred thousand men, led by twelve Saracen generals,
who are considered fully equal to the French peers, and
who have vowed to slay Roland in the passes of Roneevaux.

Pabt II. Prelude to the Great Battle. It is only
when the Saracen army is beginning to close in upon the
French, that the peers become aware of their danger. Oliver,
Roland 's bosom friend, the first to descry the enemy, calls
out that this ambush is the result of Ganelon 's treachery,
only to be silenced by Roland, who avers none shall accuse
his step-father without proof. Then, hearing of the large
force approaching, Roland exclaims, "Cursed be he who

90 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

flees, ' ' and admonishes all present to show their mettle and
die fighting bravely.

The Pride of Roland. Because the enemies' force so
greatly outnumbers theirs, Oliver suggests that Roland
soimd his horn to summon Charlemagne to his aid; but,
unwilling to lose any glory, this hero refuses, declaring he
will strike one hundred thousand such doughty blows with
his mighty sword (Durendal), that all the pagans wiU be
laid low.

"Roland, Roland, yet wind one blast!

Karl will hear ere the gorge be passed.

And the Franks return on their path full fast."
" I will not sound on mine ivory horn:

It shall never be spoken of me in scorn.

That for heathen felons one blast I blew;

I may not dishonor my lineage true.

But I will strike, ere this fight be o'er,

A thousand strokes and seven hundred more,

And my Durindana shall drip with gore.

Our Franks will bear them like vassals brave.

The Saracens flock but to find a grave."

In spite of the fact that Oliver thrice implores him to
summon aid, Roland thrice refuses ; so his friend, perceiving
he win not yield, finally declares they must do their best,
and adds that, should they not get the better of the foe,
they will at least die fighting nobly. Then Archbishop
Turpin — one of the peers — assures the soldiers that, since
they are about to die as martyrs, they will earn Paradise,
and pronounces the absolution, thus inspiring the French
with such courage that, on rising from their knees, they
rush forward to earn a heavenly crown.

Riding at their head, Roland now admits to Oliver that
Ganelon must have betrayed them, grimly adding that the
Saracens will have cause to rue their treachery before long.
Then he leads his army down the valley to a more open
space, where, as soon as the signal is given, both friends
plunge into the fray, shouting their war-cry ("Montjoie").

The Medley. In the first ranks of the Saracens is a
nephew of Marsile, who loudly boasts Charlemagne is
about to lose his right arm ; but, before he can repeat this

THE SONG OP ROLAND 91

taunt, Eoland, spurring forward, runs his lance through
his body and hurls it to the ground with a turn of his
wrist. Then, calling out to his men that they have scored
the first triumph, Roland proceeds to do tremendous execu-
tion among the foe. The poem describes many of the
duels which take place, — ^for each of the twelve peers
specially distinguishes himself, — while the Saracens, con-
scious of vastly superior numbers, return again and again
to the attack. Even the archbishop fights bravely, and
Roland, after dealing fifteen deadly strokes with his lance,
resorts to his sword, thus meeting the Saracens at such
close quarters that every stroke of his blade hews through
armor, rider, and steed.

At the last it brake; then he grasped in hand
His Durindana, his naked brand.
He smote Chernubles' helm upon,
Where, in the centre, carbuncles shone:
Down through his coif and his fell of hair.
Betwixt his eyes came the falchion bare,
Down through his plated harness fine,
Down through the Saracen's chest and chine,
Down through the saddle with gold inlaid,
Till sank in the living horse the blade,
Severed the spine where no joint was found.
And horse and rider lay dead on ground.

In spite of Roland's doughty blows, his good sword
suffers no harm, nor does that of Oliver (Hauteelaire), with
which he does such good work that Eoland assures him he
win henceforth consider him a brother. Although the
French slay the pagans by thousands, so many of their own
warriors fall, that, by the time they have repulsed the first
Saracen division, only sixty of Roland's men remain alive.

All nature seems to feel the terrible battle raging in
the valley of Roncevaux, for a terrible storm breaks forth
in France, where, hearing the roll of the thunder, seeing
the flash of the lightning, and feeling the earth shake be-
neath their feet, the French fear the end of the world has
come. These poor warriors are little aware that all this
commotion is due to "nature's grief for the death of
Roland."

92 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

Now a wondrous storm o'er France hath passed.

With thunder-stroke and whirlwind's blast;

Rain unmeasured, and hail, there came.

Sharp and sudden the lightning's flame;

And an earthquake ran — the sooth I say.

From Besancon city to Wissant Bay;

From Saint Michael's Mount to thy shrine, Cologne,

House unrifted was there none.

And a darkness spread in the noontide high —

No light, save gleams from the cloven sky.

On all who saw came a mighty fear.

They said, " Tha end of the world is near."

Alas, they spake but with idle breath, —

'Tis the great lament for Roland's death.

The Horn. During the brief respite allowed them,
Roland informs Oliver that he wishes to notify Charlemagne
that France has been widowed of many men. In reply,
Oliver rejoins that no Frenchman will leave this spot to
bear such a message, seeing all prefer death and honor to
safety ! Such being the case, Roland proposes to sound Ms
horn, whereupon Oliver bitterly rejoins, had his friend
only done so at first, they would have been reinforced by
now, and that the emperor can no longer reach them in
time. He can, however, avenge them and give them an
honorable burial, Roland argues, and he and his friend
continue bickering until the archbishop silences them, bid-
ding Roland blow his horn. Placing Olifant to his lips,
the hero, after drawing a powerful breath, blows so mighty
a blast that it re-echoes thirty miles away.

This sound, striking Charlemagne's ear, warns him that
his army is in danger, although Ganelon insists Roland is
hunting. While blowing a second blast, Roland makes so
mighty an effort that he actually bursts the blood-vessels in
his temples, and the Frenchmen, hearing that caU, aver with
awe that he would never call that way unless in dire peril.
Ganelon, however, again insists that his step-son is in no
danger and is merely coursing a hare.

With deadly travail, in stress and pain.
Count Roland sounded the mighty strain.
Forth from his mouth the bright blood sprang,
And his temples burst for the very pang.

ROLAND AT RONCESVAUX
From the painting by L. F. Guesnet

THE SONG OF ROLAND 93

On and onward was borne the blast.

Till Karl hath heard as the gorge he passed,

And Naimes and all his men of war.

" It is Roland's horn," said the Emperor,

"And, save in battle, he had not blown."

"With blood pouring from mouth' and ears, Roland
sounds his horn a third and last time, producing so long and
despairing a note, that Naimes vows the French must be at
the last extremity, and that unless they hurry they will not
find any alive ! Bidding all his horns sound as a signal that
he is coming, Charlemagne — after ordering Ganelon bound
and left in charge of the baggage train — leads his men
back to Spain to Roland's rescue.

As the day is already far advanced, helmets and armors
glitter beneath the rays of the setting sun as the French-
men spur along, tears coursing down their cheeks, for they
apprehend what must have befallen Roland, who was evi-
dently suffering when he blew that third blast !

The Bout. Meanwhile, casting his eyes over the battle-
field, now strewn with corpses, Roland mourns his fallen
companions, praying God to let their souls rest in Paradise
on beds of flowers. Then, turning to Oliver, he proposes
that they fight on as long as breath remains in their bodies,
before he plunges back into the fray, still uttering his war-
cry.

By this time the French are facing a second onslaught
of the pagans, and Roland has felled twenty-four of their
bravest fighters before Marsile challenges him to a duel.
Although weak and weary, Roland accepts, and with his
first stroke hews off the Saracen's right hand; but, before
he can foUow this up with a more decisive blow, Marsile
is borne away by his followers. Seeing their master gallop
off towards Spain, the remainder of the Saracens, crying
that Charlemagne's nephew has triumphed, cease fighting
and flee. Thus, fifty thousand men soon vanish in the
distance, leaving Roland temporary master of the battle-
field, which he knows the emperor will reach only after
he has breathed his last.

94 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

The Death of Oliver. Although the Saracens, have fled,
some Moors remain to charge the Frenchmen, whom they
wish to annihilate before Charlemagne can arrive. Once
more, therefore, Roland urges his followers to do their
best, cursing those who dream of yielding. Not daring ap-
proach the small handful of doughty Frenchmen, the pagans
attack them from a distance with lance, arrow, and spear,
tauntingly crying Charlemagne will have no cause to pride
himself upon having appointed them to guard his rear!
Mortally wounded by one of these spears, Oliver, blindly
cutting down the foes nearest him, bids Roland hasten to
his rescue, as it won't be long before they part. Seeing
the stream of blood which flows from his friend's wounds
and catching a glimpse of his livid face, Roland so keenly
realizes Oliver's end is near that he swoons in his saddle.
The wounded man, no longer able to see, meanwhile ranges
wildly around the battle-field, striking madly right and
left. In doing so he runs against Roland, and, failing to
recognize him, deals him so powerful a blow that he almost
kills him. Gently inquiring why his friend thus attacks
one he loves, Roland hears Oliver gasp, "I hear you, friend,
but do not see you. Forgive me for having struck you, ' ' —
a more than ample apology, — ere he dies.

See Eoland there on his charger stwooned,

Olivier smitten with his death wound.

His eyes from bleeding are dimmed and dark,

Nor mortal, near or far, can mark;

And when his comrade beside him pressed,

Fiercely he smote on his golden crest;

Down to the nasal the helm he shred,

But passed no further, nor pierced his head.

Roland marvelled at such a blow,

And thus bespake him soft and low:
"Hast thou done it, my comrade, wittingly?

Roland who loves thee so dear, am I,

Thou hast no quarrel with me to seek.''

Olivier answered, " I hear thee speak.

But I see thee not. God seeth thee.

Have I struck thee, brother? Forgive it me."
" I am not hurt, O Olivier ;

And in sight of God, I forgive thee here.''

Then each to other his head has laid,

And in love like this was their parting made.

THE SONG OF ROLAND 95

On seeing that his friend has passed away, the heart-
broken Roland again swoons in his saddle, but his in-
telligent steed stands still until his master recovers his
senses. Gazing around him, Roland now ascertains that
only two other Frenchmen are still alive, and, seeing one
of them severely wounded, he binds up his cuts before
plunging back into the fray, where he accounts for twenty-
five pagans, while the archbishop and the wounded soldier
dispose of eleven more.

Charlemagne Approaches. The last Frenchmen are
fighting madly against a thousand Moors on foot and four
thousand on horseback, when the spears flung from a dis-
tance lay low the wounded man and deal a mortal wound
to the archbishop. But, even while dying, Turpin joins
Roland in declaring they must continue to fight, so that
when the emperor finds their bodies he can see they have
piled hundreds of corpses around them. This resolve is
carried out, however, only at the cost of dire suffering,
for the archbishop is dying and Roland's burst temples
cause him intense pain. Nevertheless, he once more puts
his horn to his lips, and draws from it this time so pitiful
a blast that, when it reaches the ears of Charlemagne, he
woefully exclaims: "All is going ill; my nephew Roland
will die to-day, for the sound of his horn is very weak!"

Again bidding his sixty thousand trumpets sound, the
emperor urges his troops to even greater speed, until the
noise of his horns and the tramp of his steeds reaches the
pagans' ears and admonishes them to flee. Realizing that,
should Roland survive, the war will continue, a few Moors
make a final frantic attempt to slay him before fleeing.
Seeing them advance for a last onslaught, Roland — ^who
has dismounted for a moment — again bestrides his steed
and, accompanied by the staggering archbishop, bravely
faces them. They, however, only fling missiles from a
distance, until Roland's shield drops useless from his hand
and his steed sinks lifeless beneath him ! Then, springing
to his feet, Roland defies these cowardly foes, who, not
daring to linger any longer, turn 'and flee, crying that

96 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

Eoland has won and Spain is lost unless the emir comes to
their rescue!

The Last Blessing of the Archbishop. While the pagans
are spurring towards Saragossa, Eoland remains on the
battle-field, for, having lost his steed and being mortally
wounded, he cannot attempt to pursue them. After tenderly-
removing the archbishop's armor, binding up his wounds,
and placing him comfortably on the ground, Roland brings
him the twelve peers, so he can bless them for the last
time. Although Archbishop Turpin admonishes him to
hasten, Roland is so weak, that he slowly and painfully
collects the corpses from mountain and valley, laying them
one by one at the feet of the archbishop, who, with right
hand raised, bestows his blessing. WhUe laying Oliver at
Turpin 's feet, Roland faints from grief, so the prelate pain-
fully raises himself, and, seizing the hero's horn, tries to
get down to the brook to bring him some water. Such is
his weakness, however, that he stumbles and falls dead,
face to the ground, before he can fulfil his kindly intention.

On recovering consciousness and seeing nothing save
corpses around him, Roland exults to think that Charle-
magne will find forty dead Saracens for every slain French-
man ! Then, feeling his brain slowly ooze out through his
ears, Roland — after reciting a prayer for his dead com-
panions— grasps his sword in one hand and his horn in
th© other, and begins to climb a neighboring hill. He
tries to reach its summit because he has always. boasted
he would die face toward the enemy, and he longs to look
defiance toward Spain until the end.

Painfully reaching the top of this eminence, Roland
stumbles and falls across a Saracen, who has been feigning
death to escape capture. Seeing the dreaded warrior un-
conscious, this coward seizes his sword, loudly proclaiming
he has triumphed ; but, at his first touch, Roland — ^recover-
ing his senses — deals him so mighty a blow with his horn,
that the Saracen falls with crushed helmet and skull. Hav-
ing thus recovered his beloved Durendal, Roland, to pre-
vent its again falling into the enemy's hands, vainly tries

THE SONG OF ROLAND 97

to break it by hewing at the rocks around him, but, although
he uses all the strength he has left to deal blows that cut
through the stone, the good sword remains undinted. Full
of admiration, Roland then recalls the feats Durendal has
enabled him to perform, and, lying down on the grass,
places beneath him sword and horn, so as to defend them
dead as well as alive ! Then, having confessed his sins and
recited a last prayer, Roland holds out his glove toward
heaven, in token that he surrenders his soul to God, and
begs that an angel be sent to receive it from his hand.
Thus, lying beneath a pine, his face toward Spain, his last
thoughts for France and for God, Roland dies in the
presence of the angels, who bear his soul off to Paradise.

Roland feeleth his hour at hand;
On a knoll he lies towards the Spanish land.
With one hand beats he upon his breast:
"In thy sight, O God, be my sins confessed.
Prom my hour of birth, both the great and small,
Down to this day, I repent of all."
As his glove he raises to God on high.
Angels of heaven descend him nigh.

Pakt III. Rbpbisals. Roland has barely breathed his
last when Charlemagne arrives on the battle-field and, gaz-
ing around him, perceives nothing but corpses. Receiving
no answer to his repeated call for the twelve peers, Charle-
magne groans it was not without cause he felt anxious and
mourns that he was not there to take part in the fray. He
and his men weep aloud for their fallen companions, and
twenty thousand soldiers swoon from grief at the sight of
the havoc which has been made !

Still, only a few moments can be devoted to sorrow, for
Duke Naimes, descrying a cloud of dust in the distance,
eagerly suggests that if they ride on they can yet overtake
and punish the foe ! Detailing a small detachment to guard
the dead, Charlemagne orders the pursuit of the Saracens,
and, seeing the sun about to set, prays so fervently that
daylight may last, that an angel promises he shall have
light as long as he needs it. Thanks to this miracle, Charle-

7

98 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

magne overtakes the Saracens just as they are about to
cross the Ebro, and, after killing many, drives the rest into
the river, where they are drowned.

It is only when the last of the foe has been disposed of
that the sun sets, and, perceiving it is too late to return to
Roncevaux that night, Charlemagne gives orders to camp
on the plain. While his weary men sleep peacefully, the
emperor himself spends the night mourning for Roland and
for the brave Frenchmen who died to defend his cause,
so it is only toward morning that he enjoys a brief nap,
during which visions foreshadow the punishment to be in-
flicted upon Ganelon and all who uphold him.

In the mead the Emperor made his bed.
With his mighty spear beside his head.
Nor will he doff his arms to-night,
But lies in his broidered hauberk white.
Laced is his helm, with gold inlaid.
Girt on Joyeuse, the peerless blade.
Which changes thirty times a day
The brightness of its varying ray.

Meanwhile the wounded Marsile has returned to Sara-
gossa, where, while binding up his wounds, his wife com-
ments it is strange no one has been able to get the better
of such an old man as Charlemagne, and exclaims the last
hope of the Saracens now rests in the emir, who has just
landed in Spain.

At dawn the emperor returns to Roncevaux, and there
begins his sad search for the bodies of the peers. Sure
Roland will be found facing the foe, he seeks for his corpse
in the direction of Spain, and, discovering him at last on
the little hill, swoons from grief. Then, recovering his
senses, Charlemagne prays God to receive his nephew's
soul, and, after pointing out to his men how bravely the
peers fought, gives orders for the burial of the dead, re-
serving only the bodies of Roland, Oliver, and' the arch-
bishop, for burial in France.

The last respects have barely been paid to the fallen,
when a Saracen herald summons Charlemagne to meet the
emir. So the French mount to engage in a new battle.

THE SONG OF ROLAND 99

Such is the stimulus of Charlemagne's words and of his ex-
ample, that all his men do wonders. The aged emperor
himself finally engages in a duel with the emir, in the
midst of which he is about to succumb, when an angel
bids him strike one more blow, promising he shall triumph.
Thus stimulated, Charlemagne slays the emir, and the
Saracens, seeing their leader slain, flee, closely pursued by
the Frenchmen, who enter Saragossa in their wake. There,
after killing aU the men, they pillage the town.

On discovering that Marsile has meantime died of his
wound, Charlemagne orders his widow to France, where he
proposes to convert her through the power of love. The
remainder of the pagans are compelled to receive baptism,
and, when Charlemagne again wends his way through the
Pyrenees, all Spain bows beneath his sceptre.

At Bordeaux, Charlemagne deposits upon the altar of
St. Severin, Roland's Olifant, filled with gold pieces, before
personally escorting the three august corpses to Blaye,
where he sees them interred, ere he hurries on to Aix-la-
Chapelle to judge Ganelon.

The Chastisement of Ocmelon. On arriving in his
palace, Charlemagne is confronted by Alda or Aude, a
sister of Oliver, who frantically questions: "Where is
Boland who has sworn to take me to wife?" Weeping bit-
terly, Charlemagne informs her his nephew is no more,
adding that she can marry his son, but Aude rejoins that,
since her beloved is gone, she no longer wishes to live.
These words uttered, she falls lifeless at the emperor's feet."

From Spain the emperor made retreat.

To Aix in France, his kingly seat;

And thither, to his halls, there came,

Alda, the fair and gentle dame.
"Where is my Boland, sire," she cried,
"Who vowed to take me for his bride?"

O'er Karl the flood of sorrow swept;

He tore his beard, and loudly wept.
"Dear sister, gentle friend," he said,
"Thou seekest one who lieth dead:

I plight to thee my son instead, —

• See the author's " Legends of the Rhine."

100 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

Louis, who lord of my realm shall be."
" Strange," she said, " seems this to me.
Crod and His angels forbid that I
Should live on earth if Roland die."
Pale grew her cheek — she sank amain,
Down at the feet of Carlemaine.
So died she. God receive her soul!
The Franks bewail her in grief and dole.

The time having come for the trial, Ganelon appears
before his judges, laden with chains and tied to a stake
as if he were a wild beast. "When accused of depriving
Charlemagne of twenty thousand Frenchmen, Ganelon re-
torts he did so merely to avenge his wrongs, and hotly
denies having acted as a traitor. Thirty of his kinsmen
sustain him in this assertion, one of them even volunteering
to meet the emperor's champion in a judicial duel. As
the imperial champion wins, Ganelon and his relatives are
adjudged guilty, but, whereas the latter thirty are merely
hanged, the traitor himself is bound to wild horses until
torn asunder.

Having thus done justice, Charlemagne informs his
courtiers they are to attend the baptism of a Saracen lady
of high degree, who is about to be received into the bosom
of the church.

The men of Bavaria and Allemaine,

Norman and Breton return again,

And with all the Franks aloud they cry.

That Gan a traitor's death shall die.

They bade be brought four stallions fleet; ,

Bound to them Ganelon, hands and feet:

Wild and swift was each savage steed,

And a mare was standing within the mead;

Four grooms impelled the coursers on, —

A fearful ending for Ganelon.

His every nerve was stretched and torn,

And the limbs of his body apart were borne;

The bright blood, springing from every vein,

Left on the herbage green its stain.

He dies a felon and recreant:

Never shall traitor his treason vaunt.

End of the Song. Having thus punished the traitor
and converted the heathen, Charlemagne, Ijring in his
chamber one night, receives a visit from the angel Gabriel,

AUCASSIN AND NICOLETTE 101

who bids him go forth and do further battle against the
pagans. Weary of warfare and longing for rest, the aged
emperor moans, "God, how painful is my life!" for he
knows he must obey.

When the emperor's justice was satisfied,

His mighty wrath did awhile subside.

Queen Bramimonde was a Christian made.

The day passed on into night's dark shade;

As the king in his vaulted chamber lay,

Saint Gabriel came from God to say,
"Karl, thou shalt summon thine empire's host.

And march in haste to Bira's coast;

Unto Impha city relief to bring.

And succor Vivian, the Christian king.

The heathens in siege have the town essayed.

And the shattered Christians invoke thine aid."

Fain would Karl such task decline.
"God! what a life of toil is mine! "

He wept; his hoary beard he wrung.

Here ends the Song of Theroulde.

AUCASSIN AND NICOLETTE

Who would list to the good lay
Gladness of the captive grey?
'Tis how two young lovers met,
Aucassin and Nicolette,
Of the pains the lover bore
And the sorrow he outwore.
For the goodness and the grace.
Of his love, so fair of face.

Sweet the song, the story sweet,
There is no man hearkens it.
No man living 'neath the sun,
So outwearied, so foredone,
Sick and woful, worn and sad.
But is healed, but is glad.

'Tis so sweet.
So say they, speak they, tell they the tale."

This popular mediaeval ballad is in alternate fragments
of verse and prose, and relates how the Count of Valence

"All the quotations in this chapter are from Andrew Lang's
version of " Aucassin and Nicolette."

102 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

made desperate war against the Count of Biauoaire, a
very old and frail man, who saw that his castle was in
imminent danger of being taken and sacked. In his dis-
tress, this old lord besought his son Aucassin, who so far
had taken no interest in the war, to go forth and fight. The
youth, however, refused to do so, saying his heart was
wrapped up in love for Nicolette, a fair slave belonging to a
captain in town. This man, seeing the delicacy of his slave
and realizing she must belong to some good family, had her
baptized and treated her as if she were an adopted daughter.

On account of Nicolette 's lowly condition, Aucassin 's
father refuses to listen when the young man proposes to
marry her, and sternly bids him think of a wife better
suited to his rank. The young lover, however, vehemently
insists that Nicolette is fit to be an empress, and vows
he will not fight until he has won her for his own. On
seeing how intractable this youth is, the father beseeches
the owner of the slave to clap her in prison, so that Aucassin
will not be able to get at her in any way.

Heart-broken to think that his lady-love is undergoing
captivity in his behalf, Aucassin spends his time mo-
ping. To induce him to fight, his father finally promises
that if he will go forth and drive away the foe he will
be allowed to see Nicolette and kiss her. The prospect of
such a reward so fires the young hero, that he sallies forth,
routs the besiegers, and, seizing the Count of Valence,
brings him back a prisoner. On entering the castle, he
immediately begins to clamor for Nicolette, but his father
now declares he would rather see the maiden burned as a
witch than to let his son have anything more to do with her.
Hearing this, Aucassin indignantly declares such being the
case he will free his prisoner, an act of generosity which
infuriates his father, who hopes to be enriched by the
count's ransom. To punish Aucassin, the Count of Biau-
caire now thrusts him into prison, but, although the lovers
are sharing the same fate, they languish apart, and, there-
fore, spend all their time lamenting.

One night, when the moon is shining bright, Nico-

AUCASSm AND NICOLETTE 103

lette, who has heard she is likely to be brought to trial
and burned, decides to eflEect her escape. As the old
woman who mounts guard over her is fast asleep, she
softly ties together her sheets and towels, and, fastening
them to a pillar, lets herself down by the window into the
garden, from whence she timidly steals out into the night.

The poem now artlessly describes Nicolette's beauty as
she trips over the dewy grass, her tremors as she slips
through the postern gate, and her lingering at the foot of
the tower where her lover is imprisoned. While pausing
there, Nicolette overhears his voice lamenting, and, thrust-
ing her head into an aperture in the wall, tells him that
she is about to escape and that as soon as she is gone they
will set him free. To convince her lover that it is she who
is talking, Nicolette cuts off a golden curl, which she drops
down into his dungeon, repeating that she must flee. But
Aucassin beseeches her not to go, knowing a young maid
is exposed to countless dangers out in the world, and
vehemently declares he would die were any one to lay a
finger upon her. He adds that she alone shall be his wife,
and that the mere thought of her belonging to any one else
is unendurable. This declaration of love cheers poor
Nicolette, who is so entranced by her lover's words that
she fails to notice the approach of a patrol. A young
sentinel, however, peering down from the walls, touched
by Nicolette's beauty and by the plight of these young
lovers, warns them of their danger. But not daring to
speak openly to Nicolette, he chants a musical warning,
which comes just in time to enable her to hide behind a
pillar. There she cowers until the guards pass by, then,
sUpping down into the dry moat, — although it is a perilous
undertaking, — she painfully climbs up its other side and
seeks refuge in a neighboring forest, where, although the
poem informs us there are "beasts serpentine," she feels
safer than in town.

It is while wandering in this wilderness that Nicolette
runs across some shepherds, whom she bribes to go and tell
Aucassin a wild beast is ranging through the forest, and

104 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

that he should come and slay it as soon as possible. Having
thus devised means to entice her lover out of Biaucaire,
Nicolette wanders on until she reaches a lovely spot, where
she erects a rustic lodge,, decking it with the brightest
flowers she can find, in hopes that her lover, when weary
of hunting, will rest beneath its flowery roof, and guess that
it was erected by her fair hands.

Meantime the Count of Biaucaire, hearing Nicolette has
vanished, sets his son free, and, seeing him sunk in melan-
choly, urges him to go out and hunt, thinking the exercise
may make hiTn forget the loss of his beloved. Still, it is
only when shepherds come and report that a wild beast is
ranging through the forest, that the youth mounts his steed
and sallies forth, his father little suspecting that instead
of tracking game, he is bent on seeking traces of his beloved.

Ere long Aucassin encounters an old charcoal-burner,
to whom he confides his loss, and who assures him such a
sorrow is nothing compared to his own. On discovering
that the poor man's tears can be stayed with money,
Aucassin bestows upon him the small sum he needs, receiv-
ing in return the information that a lovely maiden has been
seen in the forest. Continuiag his quest, Aucassin comes
in due time to the flowery bower, and, finding it empty,
sings his love and sorrow in tones that reach Nicolette 's
ear. Then, dismounting from his horse to rest here for the
night, Aucassin manages to sprain his shoulder. Thereupon
Nicolette steals into the bower and takes immediate meas-
ures to mitigate the pain.

The mere fact that Nicolette is beside him helps
Aucassin to forget everything else, and it is only after the
first raptures are over, that they decide not to linger in the
forest, where the Count of Biaucaire will soon find and
separate them. To prevent such a calamity, they decide to
depart together, and, as there is no extra steed for Nico-
lette to ride, her lover lifts her up on his horse before
him, clasping her tight and kissing her repeatedly as they
gallop along.

AUCASSIN AND NICOLETTE 105

Aucassin the Franc; the fair,

Aucassin of yellow hair.

Gentle knight, and true lover.

From the forest doth he fare.

Holds his love before him there.

Kissing cheek, and chin, arid eyes;

But she spake in sober wise,
"Aucassin, true love and fair.

To what land do we repair?"
" Sweet my love, I take no care.

Thou art with me everywhere! "

So they pass the woods and downs.

Pass tiie villages and towns.

Hills and dales and open land.

Came at dawn to the sea sand.

Lighted down upon the strand.
Beside the sea.

Thus the lovers travel all night, reach the sea-shore at
dawn, and wander along it, arms twined around each other,
while their weary steed follows them with drooped head.

At sunrise a vessel nears the shore, upon which they
embark to get out of reach of the wrath of the Count of
Biaucaire. The vessel, however, is soon overtaken by a
terrible tempest, which, after tossing it about for seven
days, drives it into the harbor of Torelore. This is the
mediaeval "topsy-turvy land," for on entering the castle
Aucassin learns that the king is lying abed, because a son
has been bom to him, while the queen is at the head of
the army fighting! This state of affairs so incenses
Aucassin, that armed with a big stick he enters the king's
room, gives him a good beating, and wrings from him a
promise that no man in his country will ever lie abed again
when a child is bom, or send his wife out to do hard work.
Having effected this reform in the land of Torelore, Aucas-
sin and Nicolette dwell there peacefully for three years, at
the end of which time the castle is taken by some Saracens.
They immediately proceed to sack it, carrying off its in-
mates to sell them as slaves. Bound fast, Aucassin and
Nicolette are thrust into separate ships, but, although these
are going to the same port, a sudden tempest drives the
vessel in which Aucassin lies to the shore of Biaucaire.
There the people capture it, and finding their young master,

106 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

set liini free, and invite him to take possession of his castle,
for, his father having died during his absence, he is now
master of all he surveys.

Meantime Nicolette, landing at Carthage, discovers that
this is her native town, and recognizes in her captors — ^her
father and brothers. They are so overjoyed at recovering
this long-lost sister that they propose to keep her with
them, but Nicolette assures them she will never be happy
until she rejoins Aucassin. Meantime she learns to play on
the viol, and, when she has attained proficiency on this in-
strument, sets out in the guise of a wandering minstrel to
seek her beloved. Conveyed by her brothers to the land
of Biaucaire, Nicolette, soon after landing, hears that
Aucassin, who has recently returned, is sorely bewailing
the loss of his beloved. Presenting herself before Aucassin,
— ^who does not recognize her owing to the disguise, —
Nicolette plays so charmingly that she draws tears from his
eyes. Then she begs to know his sorrows, and, on hearing
he has lost his lady-love, suggests he woo the king of
Carthage's daughter. Loudly averring he will never woo
any one save Nicolette, Aucassin turns sadly away, where-
upon the strolling minstrel assures him he shall see his be-
loved before long. Although it seems impossible to Aucas-
sin that this prediction should be verified, Nicolette has
little difficulty in fulfiilling her promise, for, hastening back
to her old home, she obtains some of her own clothes, and,
thus restored to her wonted appearance, presents herself
before the delighted Aucassin, who, overjoyed to see her
once more, clasps her rapturously to his heart.

The baUad adds that the two lovers, iinited for good and
all, lived happy ever after, and were an example to all
faithful lovers in the beautiful land of Biaucaire.

Many years abode they there,
Many years in shade or sun,
In great gladness and delight.
Ne'er had Aucassin regret,
Nor his lady Nicolette.
Now my story all is done —
Said and sung!

SPANISH EPICS

LiTEBATxmE was bom in Spain only when the Christians
began to reconquer their country from the Moors. The
first literary efforts therefore naturally reflected a warlike
spirit, and thus assumed the epic form. Very few of these
poems still exist in their original shape save the Poema del
Cid, the great epio treasure of Spain, as well as the oldest
monument of Spanish literature. Besides this poem, there
exist fragments of epics on the Infantes of Lara and on
Feman Gonzales, and hints of others of which no traces
now remain. These poems were popularized in Spain by
the juglares, who invented Bernardo del Carpio so as to
have a hero worthy to off-set to the Roland of the jongleurs,
— ^their French neighbors. But the poems about this hero
have all perished, and his fame is preserved only in the
prose chronicles. In the Cronica rimada of the thirteenth
century, we discover an account of the Cid's youth, together
witTi the episode where he slays Ximena's father, which
supplied Comeille vrith the main theme of his tragedy.

The Spaniards also boast of a thirteenth century poem
of some twenty-five hundred stanzas on the life of
Alexander, a fourteenth century romance about Tristan,
and the chivalric romance of Amadis de Gaule, which set
the fashion for hosts of similar works, whose popularity
had already begun to wane when Cervantes scotched all
further attempts of this sort 'by turning the chivalric ro-
mance into ridicule in his Don Quixote.

The Spaniards also cultivated the epic ballad, or ro-
maneeros, previous to the Golden Age of their literature
(1550-1700), drawing their subjects from the history or
legends of France and Spain, and treating mainly of ques-
tions of chivalry and love. Arthur, the Bound Table, and
the Quest for the Holy Grail, were their stock subjects,
previous to the appearance of Amadis de Gaule, a work of
original fiction remodelled and extended in the fifteenth

107

108 THE BOOK OP THE EPIC

century by Garcia Ordonez de Montalvo. During the
Golden Age, Spain boasts more than two hundred artificial
epics, treating of religious, political, and historical matters.
Among these the Auracana of Erzilla, the Argentina of
Centenera, and the Austriada of Rufo can be mentioned.
Then Velasco revived the Aeneid for his countrymen's
benefit, and religious themes such as Azevedo's Creacion del
Munde became popular.

The latest of the Spanish epics is that of Saavedra,
who, in his El Moro Exposito, has cleverly revived the old
Spanish legend of the Infantes of Lara. It is, however, the
Cid which is always quoted as Spain's representative epic.

THE CID

This poem, of some three thousand seven hundred lines,
is divided into two cantos, and was written about 1200.
It is a compilation from extant ballads in regard to the
great Spanish hero Rodrigo Diaz de Bivar, bom between
1030 and 1040, whose heroic deeds were performed at the
time when the Christian kings were making special efforts
to eject the Moors, who had invaded Spain three hundred
years before.

The first feat mentioned relates that Rodrigo 's father,
having been insulted by Don Gomez, pined at the thought
of leaving this afifront unavenged, until his son, who had
never fought before, volunteered to defend him. Not only
did Rodrigo challenge and slay Don Gomez, but cutting off
his head bore it to his father as a proof that his enemy was
dead, a feat which so pleased the old gentleman that he
declared Rodrigo should henceforth be head of the family.

After thus signalizing himself, Rodrigo was suddenly
called upon to 'face five Moorish kings who had been making
sallies into Castile. Not only did he defeat them, but took
them prisoners, thereby winning from them the title by
which he is commonly known, of "The Cid" or ' ' The Lord. "

Shortly after this Donna Ximena, daughter of Don
Gomez, appeared before King Ferrando demanding satia-

THE CID 109

faction for her father's death, and consenting to forego
revenge only on condition that Rodrigo would marry her.
The young hero having assented, the couple were united in
the presence of the king, after which Rodrigo took his beau-
tiful bride to his mother, with whom he left her until he
had earned the right to claim her by distinguishing himself
in some way.

It seems that Ferrando of Castile was then disputing
from the king of Aragon- the possession of Calahorra, a
frontier town. Both monarchs decided to settle their dif-
ference by a duel, stipulating that the town should belong
to the party whose champion triumphed.

Ferrando having selected Rodrigo as his champion, our
hero set out to meet his opponent, delaying on the way
long enough to rescue a leper from a bog. Then, placing
this unfortunate on his horse before him, Rodrigo bore him
to an inn, where, in spite of the remonstrances of his fol-
lowers, he allowed the leper to share his bed and board.
That night, while lying beside his loathsome bed-fellow,
Rodrigo suddenly felt a cold breath pass through him, and,
on investigating, discovered that his companion was gone.
He beheld in his stead St. Lazarus, who proclaimed that,
since Rodrigo had been so charitable, he would meet with
prosperity, and might know whenever he felt a cold shiver
run down his spine that it was an omen of success. Thus
encouraged, Rodrigo rode on to take part in the duel, but
he had been so delayed that the battle caU had already
sounded, and Alvar Fanez, his cousin, was preparing to
fight in his stead. Bidding his cousin step aside, Rodrigo
entered the lists, and soon won Oalahorra for Ferrando.

Pleased with what Rodrigo had done, the king now
showered honors upon him, which so aroused the jealousy
of the courtiers that they began to conspire with the Moors
to ruin him. It happened, however, that they addressed
their first proposals to the very kings whom Rodrigo hadi
conquered, and who proved loyal enough to send him word
of the plot. On discovering the treachery of the courtiers,
the king banished them, but tiie wife of Don Garcia pleaded

110 THE BOOK OP THE EPIC

so eloquently with the Cid, that he furnished the banished
man with letters of introduction to one of the Moorish kings,
who, to please his conqueror, bestowed the city of Cabra
upon him.

Although treated with such generosity, Don Garcia
proved ungrateful, and even tried to cheat the Moors.
Hearing this, the Cid, sidrag with his former enemies,'
came into their country to take away from Don Garcia the
city which had been allotted for his use.

During one of Ferrando's absences from home, the Moors
invaded one of his provinces, whereupon Rodrigo, in re-
taliation, besieged the city of Coimbra. "While he was thus
engaged his army suffered so much from lack of provisions
that it finally seemed as if he would have to give up his
undertaking. But the monks, who had advised the Cid to
besiege the city, now came to his rescue, and by feeding his
army from their own stores enabled Rodrigo to recover
another town from the pagans.

Delighted with this new accession of territory, Ferrando
knighted Rodrigo, who meantime had added to his title of
the Cid that of Campeador, "the champion," and here-
after was often mentioned as "the one bom in a fortunate
hour." In addition, the king bestowed upon Rodrigo the
governorship of the cities of Coimbra and Zamorra, which
were to be reoccupied by Christians.

Shortly after this, the Pope demanded that Ferrando
do homage to the empire, but the king rejoined that Spain
was independent and therefore refused to obey. Hearing
that large forces were marching against him to compel him
to submit, Ferrando placed the Cid at the head of an army,
and our hero not only defeated the enemy at Tobosa, but
won so brilliant a victory that the Pope never ventured to
renew his demands.

Feeling death draw near, Ferrando divided his realm
between his sons, who became kings of Castile, Leon, and
Gallicia, and bestowed upon his daughters the cities of
Zamorra and Toro. Although disappointed not to inherit
the whole realm, the eldest prince, Don Sancho, dared not

THE CID 111

oppose his father's will, until one of his brothers proceeded
to dispossess one of their sisters. Under the plea that the
promise made to their father had already been broken, Don
Sancho now set out to conquer the whole realm, but proved
so unfortunate in his first battle as to fall into Ids brother's
hands. There he would have remained for the rest of
his life, had not the Cid delivered him, taken his captor,
and confiscated his realm in Saneho's behalf. Hearing
this, the third king, Alfonso, clamored for his share of his
brother's spoil, and, as none was allotted him, declared war
in his turn. In this campaign Sancho proved victorious
only when the Cid fought in his behalf, and the struggle
resulted in the imprisonment of Alfonso, who would have
been slain had not his sister asked that he be allowed to
enter a monastery. From there Alfonso soon effected his
escape, and hastened to seek refuge among the Moors at
Toledo.

Don Sancho, having meantime assumed all three croTvns,
became anxious to dispossess his sister of Zamorra. But
the Cid refused to take part in so unchivalrous a deed,
and thereby so angered the king that he vowed he would
exile him. When the Cid promptly rejoined that in that
case he would hasten to Toledo and offer his services to
Alfonso to help him recover all he had lost, Sancho re-
pented and apologized. He did not, however, relinquish
his project of despoiling his sister of Zamorra, but merely
dispensed the Cid from accompanying him.

Because Zamorra was well defended by Vellido Dolfos,
— ^the princess' captain, — King Sancho was not able to take
it. He so sorely beset the inhabitants, however, that Vellido
Dolfos resolved to get the better of him by strategy. Feign-
ing to be driven out of the city, he secretly joined Don
Sancho, and offered to deliver the city into his hands if the
king would only accompany him to a side gate. Notwith-
standing adverse omens, the credulous Sancho, believing
him, rode off, only to meet his death at the postern gate, in-
side of which his murderer immediately took refuge.

On learning that his master has been slain, the Cid

112 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

hastened to avenge him, and, as Sancho had left no heir,
proclaimed Alfonso his successor. We are told that this
young prince had already heard of his brother's death
through a message from his sister, and, fearing the Moors
would not. allow him to depart for good, had merely asked
permission to visit his kin. The wary Moorish king con-
sented, but only on condition Alfonso would promise never
to attack him or his sons, should he become king.

When Alfonso arrived at Zamorra, all the Spaniards
readily did homage to him save the Cid, who refused to
have anything to do with him until he had solemnly sworn
he had no share in his brother's death. To satisfy the
Cid, therefore, Alfonso and twelve of his men took a three-
fold oath in the churcL of Burgos ; but it is said Alfonso
never forgave the humiliation which the Cid thus inflicted
upon him.

The new monarch proved to be a wise ruler for the
kingdoms of Leon, Castile, GaUicia, and Portugal. He was
not without his troubles, however, for shortly after his
succession the Cid quarrelled with one of his nobles. Next
the Moorish kings became disunited and Alfonso's former
host summoned him to his aid. Not only did Alfonso assist
this king of Toledo, but invited him into his camp, where
he forced him to release him from the promise made on
leaving his city. Not daring to refuse while in the power
of the Christians, the Moorish king reluctantly consented,
and was surprised and delighted to hear Alfonso immedi-
ately renew the oath, for, while not willing to be friends
with the Moors under compulsion, he had no objection to
enter into an alliance with them of his own free wiU.

Not long after this the king of Navarre sent forth his
champion to challenge one of Alfonso's, the stake this time
being three castles which the Cid won. But the Moors, tak-
ing advantage of the Cid's illness which followed this
battle, rose up against Alfonso, who was compelled to
wage war against them. In this campaign he would have
fallen into the enemy's hands had not the Cid risen from
hia sick-bed to extricate him from peril!

THE CID 113

By this time the renown of the Cid was so great, that
people in speaking of him invariably termed him "the
Perfect One," thereby arousing such jealousy among the
courtiers, that they persuaded Alfonso his subject was try-
ing to outshine him ! In anger the king decreed Rodrigo 's
immediate banishment, and, instead of allowing him the
customary thirty days to prepare for departure, threatened
to put him to death were he found within the land nine
days later! As soon as the Cid informed his friends he
was banished, one and all promised to follow wherever he
went, as did his devoted cousin Alvar Fanez.

It is at this point that the present poem of the Cid
begins, for the ballads covering the foregoing part of the
Cid's life exist only in a fragmentary state. We are told
that the decree of banishment proved a signal for the
courtiers to plunder the hero's house, and that the Cid
gazing sadly upon its miins exclaimed, "My enemies have
done this !" Then, seeing a poor woman stand by, he bade
her secure her share, adding that for his part he would
henceforth live by pillaging the Moors, but that the day
would come when he would return home laden with honors.

On his way to Burgos the Cid was somewhat cheered
by good omens, and was joined by so many knights in
quest of adventure that no less than sixty banners fluttered
behind him. A royal messenger had, however, preceded
him to this city, to forbid the people to show him hospitality
and to close his own house against him. The only person
who dared inform the Cid of this fact was a little maid,
who tremblingly reported that he was to be debarred from
all assistance.

" 0 thou that in a happy hour didst gird thee with the sword.
It is the order of the king; we dare not, O my lord!
Sealed with his royal seal hath come his letter to forbid
The Burgos folk to open door, or shelter thee, my Cid.
Our goods, our homes, our very eyes, in this are all at stake;
And small the gain to thee, though we meet ruin for thy sake.
Go, and God prosper thee in all that thou dost undertake." *

•All the quotations in this chapter are taken from translation
of " The Cid " by Onnsby.

S

114 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

Pausing at the church only long enough to say a prayer,
the Cid rode out of the gates of Burgos and camped on a
neighboring hill, where his nephew Martin Antolinez
brought him bread and wine, declaring he would hence-
forth share the Cid's fortunes in defiance of the king. It
was to this relative that the Cid confided the fact that he
was without funds and must raise enough money to defray
present expenses. Putting their heads together, these two
then decided to fill two huge chests with sand, and offer
them to a couple of Jews in Burgos for six hundred marks,
stating the chests contained treasures too heavy and valu-
able to be taken into exile, and assuring them that, if they
solemnly pledged themselves not to open the chests for a
year, they could then claim them, provided the Cid had
not redeemed them in the meanwhile. Trusting to the Cid's
word and hoping to enrich themselves by this transaction,
the Jews gladly lent the six hundred marks and bore away
the heavy chests.

Having thus secured the required supplies, the Cid
proceeded to San Pedro de Cardena, where he entrusted
his wife Ximena and two daughters to the care of the
prior, leaving behind him funds enough to defray all their
expenses. Then, although parting with his family was as
hard as "when a finger-nail is torn from the flesh," the
Cid rode away, crossing the frontier just as the nine days
ended. He was there greatly cheered by a vision of the
angel Gabriel, who assured him all would be well with him.

The prayer was said, the mass was sung, they mounted to depart;
My Cid a moment stayed to press Ximena to his heart:
Ximena kissed his hand, as one distraught with grief was she:
He looked upon his daughters: "These to God I leave," said he;
"Unto our lady and to God, Father of all below;
He knows if we shall meet again: — and now, sirs, let us go."

As when the finger-nail from out the flesh is torn away,
Even so sharp to him and them the parting pang that day.
Then to his saddle sprang my Cid, and forth his vassals led;
But ever as he rode, to those behind he turned his head.

Entering the land of the Moors with a force of three
hundred men, the Cid immediately proceeded to take a

THE CID 115

castle and to besiege the city of Alcocer. But this town
resisted so bravely, that after fifteen weeks the Cid decided
to eflfect by strategy the entrance denied by force. Feign-
ing discouragement, he, therefore, left his camp, whereupon
the inhabitants immediately poured out of the city to visit
it, leaving the gates wide open behind them. The Cid, who
was merely hiding near by, now cleverly cut off their retreat
and thus entered Alcocer through wide-open gates.

No sooner did the Moors learn that the Cid had con-
quered this important place, than they hastened to besiege
it, cutting off the water supply, to compel the Christifins
to come out. To prevent his men from perishing of thirst,
the Cid made so vigorous a sortie that he not only drove
the enemy away, but captured their baggage, thus winning
so much booty that he was able to send thirty caparisoned
steeds to Alfonso, as well as rich gifts in money to his wife.
In return, the bearer of these welcome tokens was informed
by King Alfonso that Eodrigo would shortly be pardoned
and recalled.

Meanwhile the Cid, leaving Alcocer, had taken up his
abode on the hill near Medina, which still bears his name.
Thence he proceeded to the forest of Tebar, where he again
fought so successfully against the Moors that he compelled
the city of Saragossa to pay tribute to him. Rumors of
these triumphs enticed hundreds of Castilian knights to
join him, and with their aid he outwitted all the attempts
the Moors made to regain their lost possessions. "We are
also told that in one of these battles the Cid took prisoner
Don Eamon, who refused to eat until free. Seeing this,
the Cid took his sword, Colada, and promised to set him
and his kinsmen free if they would only eat enough to
have strength to depart. Although doubtful whether this
promise would be kept, Don Ramon and his follows par-
took of food and rode away, constantly turning their heads
to make sure that they were not pursued.

He spurred his steed, but, as he rode, a backward glance he bent,
Still fearing to the last my Cid his promise would repent:
A thing, the world itself to win, my Cid would not have done:
No perfidy was ever found in him, the Perfect One.

116 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

As some of his subjects were sorely persecuted by the
Moors, Alfonso now sent word to the Cid to punish them,
a task the hero promised to perform, provided the king
would pledge himself never again to banish a man with-
out giving him thirty days' notice, and to make sundry
other wise reforms in his laws. Having thus secured in-
estimable boons for his fellow-countrymen, the Cid pro-
ceeded to besiege sundry Moorish castles, all of which he
took, winning thereby much booty. Having thus served
his monarch, the Cid was recalled in triumph to Castile,
where he was told to keep all he had won from the Moors.
In return the Cid helped Alfonso to secure Toledo, seeing
the king with whom this king had sworn alliance was now
dead. It was while the siege of this city was taking place
that Bishop Jerome was favored by a vision of St. Isidro,
who predicted they would take the city, a promise verified
in 1085, when the Cid's was the first Christian banner to
float above its walls. Our hero now became governor of
this town, but, although he continued to wage war against
the Moors, his successes had made the courtiers so jealous
that they induced the king to imprison Ximena and her
daughters.

Perceiving he was no longer in favor at court, the Cid
haughtily withdrew, and, when Alfonso came down into
Valencia, demanding that the cities which had hitherto paid
tribute to his subject should now do so to him, the Cid
retaliated by invading Alfcmso's reabn. None of the
courtiers daring to oppose him, Alfonso had cause bitterly
to repent of what he had done, and humbly assured his
powerful subject he would never molest him again. Ever
ready to forgive an ungrateful master, the Cid withdrew,
and for a time king and subject lived in peace.

Although the Cid had permitted the Moors to remain in
the cities he had conquered, they proved rather restive
under the Christian yoke, and guided by Abeniaf finally
told the Moors in Northern Africa that if they would only
cross the sea they would deliver Valencia into their hands.
But this conspiracy soon became known to the Moors who

THE CID 117

favored the Cid, and they immediately notified him, hold-
ing their town which was ia dire peril for twelve days.

To keep his promise, Abeniaf finally hauled some of
the Moors up over the walls by means of ropes, and the
presence of these foes in their midst compelled the Moors
who favored the Cid to leave the city ia disguise, thus
allowing Abeniaf and his allies to plunder right and left
and even to murder the Moorish king. This done, Abeniaf
himself assumed the regal authority, and began to govern
the city in such an arbitrary way that he soon managed to
offend even his own friends.

Meantime the Moors who had fled rejoined the Cid, and,
when they reported what had occurred, Rodrigo wrote to
Abeniaf, reproaching him for his treachery and demanding
the surrender of the property he had left in town. Because
Abeniaf replied that his allies had taken possession of it,
the Cid termed him a traitor and swore he would secure
revenge. Thereupon our hero set out with an army, and,
finding himself unable to take the city by assault, began
to besiege it; pulling down the houses in the suburbs to
secure necessary materials to construct his camp. Then
he began a systematic attack on the city, mastering one of
its defences after another, and carrying on the siege with
such vigor that he thereby won additional glory. All the
M.oorish captives taken were sent out through his lines into
the open country, where they were invited to pursue their
agricultural avocations, and assured protection, provided
they would pay tribute of one-tenth of the produce of
their lands.

Meantime the people in the besieged city suffered so
sorely from hunger, that they finally sent word they would
treat with the Cid if he would allow Abeniaf and his fol-
lowers to leave the country unharmed. The Cid having
consented to this proposal, the invading Moors withdrew
to Morocco, whence, however, they soon returned in in-
creased numbers to recapture Valencia and take their re-
venge upon Abeniaf, who had proved treacherous to them
too. To check the advance of this foe, the Cid flooded

118 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

the country by opening the sluices in the irrigation canals,
and the invaders, fancying themselves in danger of drown-
ing, beat a hasty retreat. Because Abeniaf took advantage
of these circumstances to turn traitor again, the Cid be-
sieged him in Valencia for nine months, during which the
famine became so intense that the inhabitants resorted to
all manner of expedients to satisfy their hunger.

Throughout this campaign the Cid ate his meals in pub-
lic, sitting by himself at a highr table and assigning the
one next him to the warriors whcJ won the most distinction
in battle. This table was headed by Alvar Fanez, sur-
rounded by the most famous knights. A notorious coward,
pretending to have done great deeds, advanced one day to
claim a seat among the heroes. Perceiving his intention,
the Cid called him to come and sit with him, whereupon
the knight became so elated that when he again found
himself on the field of battle he actually did wonders ! Seeing
his efforts, the Cid generously encouraged him and, after
he had shown himself brave indeed, publicly bade him sit
with the distinguished knights.

The city of Valencia having finally opened its gates,
the Cid marched in with a train of provision-wagons, for
he longed to relieve the starving. Then, sending for the
principal magistrates, he expressed commiseration for their
sufferings, adding that he would treat the people fairly,
provided they proved loyal in their turn. But, instead of
occupying the city itself, he and the Christians returned
to the suburbs, enjoining upon the Moorish governor to
maintain order among his people, and slay none but
Abeniaf, who had proved traitor to all.

Soon after, seeing that the Moors and Christians would
never be able to live in peace within the same enclosure, the
Cid appointed another place of abode for the Moors. Then
he and his followers marched into Valencia, which they
proceeded to hold, in spite of sundry attempts on the part
of the Moors to recover possession of so important a strong-
hold.

When the Moorish king of Seville ventured to attack

THE CID 119

the Cid, he and his thirty thousand men experienced defeat
and many of his force were drowned in the river while try-
ing to escape. Such was the amount of spoil obtained in
this and other battles, that the Cid was able to make his
soldiers rich beyond their dreams, although by this time he
had a very large force, for new recruits constantly joined
him during his wars with the Moors.

As the Cid had vowed" on leaving home never to cut his
beard until recalled, he was now a most venerable-looking
man, with a beard of such length that it had to be bound out
of his way by silken cords whenever he wanted to fight.
Among those who now fought in the Cid's ranks was
Hieronymo (Jerome), who became bishop of Valencia, and
who, in his anxiety to restore the whole land to Christian
rule, fought by the Cid's side, and invariably advised him
to transform all captured mosques into Christian churches.

But lo! all armed from head to heel the Bishop Jerome shows;
He ever brings good fortune to my Cid where'er he goes.
"Mass have I said, and now I come to join you in the fray;
To strike a blow against the Moor in battle if I may,
And in the field win honor for my order and my hand.
It is for this that I am here, far from my native land.
Unto Valencia did I come to cast my lot with you,
All for the longing that I had to slay a Moor or two.
And so, in warlike guise I come, with blazoned shield, and lance.
That I may flesh my blade to-day, if God but give the chance.
Then send me to the front to do the bidding of my heart:
Grant me this favor that I ask, or else, my Cid, we part! "

Now that he had a fixed abiding place, the Cid bade
Alvar Panez and Martin Antolinoz carry a rich present to
Don Alfonso, and obtain his permission to bring his wife
and daughters to Valencia. The same messengers were also
laden with a reward for the Abbot of St. Pedro, under
whose protection the Cid's family had taken refuge, and
with funds to redeem the chests of sand from the Jews at
Burgos, begging their pardon for the deception practised
upon them and allowing them higher interest than they
could ever have claimed. Not only did the messengers gal-
lantly acquit themselves of this embassy, but boasted every-

120 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

where of the five pitched battles the Cid had won and of
the eight towns now under his sway.

On learning that the Cid had conquered Valencia,
Alfonso expressed keen delight, although his jealous cour-
tiers did not hesitate to murmur they could have done as
well! The monarch also granted permission to Donna
Ximena and her daughters to join the Cid, and the three
ladies set out with their escorts for Valencia. Nine miles
outside this city, the Cid met them, mounted on his steed
Bavieca, which he had won from the Moors, and, joyfully
embracing wife and daughters, welcomed them to Valencia,
where from the top of the Alcazar he bade them view the
fertile country which paid tribute to him.

But, three months after the ladies' arrival, fifty thou-
sand Moors crossed over from Africa to recover their lost
territoiy. Hearing this, the Cid immediately laid in a stock
of provisions, renewed his supplies of ammunition, and in-
spected the walls and engines of his towns to make sure
they could resist. These preparations concluded, he told
his wife and daughters they should now see with their own
eyes how well he could fight ! Soon after the Moors began
besieging the city (1102), the Cid arranged that some of
his troops should slip out and attack them from behind
while he faced them. By this stratagem the Moors were
caught between opposing forces, and overestimating their
numbers fled in terror, allowing the Cid to triumph once
more, although he had only four thousand men to oppose
to their fifty thousand ! Thanks to this panic of the Moors,
the Cid collected such huge quantities of booty, that he was
able to send a hundred fully equipped horses to King
Alfonso, as well as the tent which he had captured from
the Moorish monarch. These gifts not only pleased Alfonso,
but awed and silenced the courtiers, among whom were
the Infantes of Carrion, who deemed it might be well to
sue for the Cid's daughters, since the father was able to
bestow such rich gifts. Having reached this decision, these
scheming youths approached the king, who, counting upon

THE CID 121

his vassals' implicit obedience to his commands, promised
they should marry as they wished.

When the bearers of the Cid's present, therefore, re-
turned to Valencia, they bore a letter wherein Alfonso bade
the Cid give his daughters in marriage to the Infantes of
Carrion. Although this marriage suited neither the old
hero nor his wife, both were far too loyal to oppose the
king's wishes, and humbly sent word they would obey.

Then the Cid graciously went to meet his future sons-
in-law. They were escorted to the banks of the Tagus by
Alfonso himself, who there expressed surprise at the length
of the Cid's beard, and seemed awed by the pomp with
which he was surrounded, for at the banquet all the chief
men ate out of dishes of gold and no one was asked to use
anything less precious than silver. Not only did the Cid
assure his future sons-in-law that his daughters should have
rich dowries, but, the banquet ended, escorted them back to
Valencia, where he entertained them royally.

The wedding festivities lasted fifteen days, but even
after they were over the Infantes of Carrion tarried in
Valencia, thus giving the Cid more than one opportunity to
regret having bestowed his daughters' hands upon youths
who possessed neither coursige nor nobility of character.
While the young men were still lingering ia Valencia, it
happened one afternoon — ^while the Cid lay sleeping in the
haU — ^that a huge lion, kept in the court-yard for his amuse-
ment, escaped from its keepers. While those present imme-
diately rushed forward to protect the sleeper, the Cid's
sons-in-law, terrified at the sight of the monster, crept one
beneath the hero's couch and the other over a wine-press,
thus soiling his garments so he was not fit to be seen. At
the lion's roar the Cid awoke. Seeing at a glance what had
occurred, he sprang forward, then, laying a powerful hand
on the animal's mane, compelled him to follow him out of
the hall, and thrust him ignominiously back into his cage.

Because the Infantes had so plainly revealed their
cowardice, people made fun of them, until they roused
their resentment to such an extent that, when the Moors

122 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

again threatened Valencia, they offered to go forth and
defend the Cid. This show of courage simply delighted the
old hero, who sallied forth accompanied by both sons-in-
law and hj the bishop, who was a mighty fighter. Although
most of the warriors present did wonders on this occasion,
the Infantes of Carrion were careful not to run any risk,
although one of them purchased a horse which a soldier
had won from the Moors, and shamelessly passed it off as
his own trophy. Pleased to think this son-in-law had so
distinguished himself, the Cid complimented him after the
battle, where he himself had slain so many Moors and won
so much booty that he was able to send another princely
present to Alfonso. Perceiving they were still objects of
mockery among the followers of the Cid, the Infantes now
begged permission to take their wives home, although their
real intention was to make these helpless girls pay for the
insults they had received. Although the Cid little suspected
this fact, he regretfully allowed his daughters to depart,
and tried to please his sons-in-law by bestowing upon them
the choice swords, Tizona and Colada, won in the course of
his battles against the Moors.

Two days' journey from Valencia the infantes prepared
to carry out the revenge they had planned, but while con-
ferring in regard to its details were overheard by a Moor,
who, vowing he would have nothing to do with such cowards,
left them unceremoniously. Sending on their main troops
with a cousin of the girls, Felez Munoz, who served as their
escort, tl;e Infantes led their wives into a neighboring
forest, where, after stripping them, they beat them cruelly,
kicked them with their spurs, and abandoned them griev-
ously wounded and trembling for their lives. When the
Infantes rejoined their suite minus their wives, Felez
Munoz, suspecting something was wrong, rode back hastily,
and found his cousins in such a pitiful plight that they
were too weak to speak. Casting his own cloak about the
nearly naked women, he tenderly bore them into a thicket,
where they could lie in safety while he watched over them
all night, for he did not dare leave them to go in quest of

THE cm 123

aid. At dawn he hurried off to a neighboring villsige and
secured help. There, in the house of a kind man, the poor
ladies were cared for, while their cousin hastened on to
apprise the Cid of what had occurred.

Meantime the Infantes had met Alvar Fanez conveying
to the king another present, and, on being asked where were
their wives, carelessly rejoined they had left them behind.
Ill pleased with such a report, Alvar Fanez and his troops
hurried back in quest of the ladies, but found nothing
save traces of blood, which made them suspect foul play.
On discoveruig what had really happened to the Cid's
daughters, Alvar Fanez hurried on to deliver the present to
the king, and indignantly reported what treatment the Cid 's
daughters had undergone at the hands of the bridegrooms
the king had chosen for them, informing him that since he
had made the marriage it behooved him to see justice done.
Horrified on hearing what had occurred, Alfonso sum-
moned the Cortes, sending word to the Cid and to the In
fantes to appear before it at Toledo three months hence.

Meantime the Cid, learning what had befallen his poor
girls, hastened to them, took them home, and, hearing that
the king himself would judge his case, decided to abide by
the decision of the Cortes. At the end of the third month,
therefore, the Cid's followers — who had preceded him —
erected in the royal hall at Toledo the ivory seat he had
won at Valencia, and Alfonso himself openly declared the
Cid quite worthy to occupy a throne by his side, seeing no
one had ever served him as well as the man whom the
courtiers were always trying to belittle. The day for the
solemn session having dawned, the Cid entered the hall,
followed by a hundred knights, while the Infantes of
Carrion appeared there with equal numbers, being afraid
of an attack. "When summoned to state his wrongs, the
Cid quietly rose from his ivory throne, declaring that,
having bestowed upon the Infantes two swords of great
price, he demanded their return, since, as they refused to
have anything more to do with his daughters, he could no
longer consider them his sons. All present were amazed

124 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

at the mildness of the Cid's speech and at his demanding
merely the return of his swords, and the Infantes, glad to
be let off so easily, promptly resigned both weapons into
the Cid's hand. With his precious swords lying across his
lap, the Cid now declared that having also given the In-
fantes large sums of money he wished those returned also,
and, although the young men objected, the court sentenced
them to pay the sum the Cid claimed. Both of these de-
mands having been granted, the Cid next required satis-
faction for the treatment the Infantes had inflicted upon
his daughters, eloquently describing to the Cortes the
cruelty and treachery used.

"So please your Grace! once more upon your clemency I call;
A grievance yet remains untold, the greatest grief of all.
And let the court give ear, and weigh the wrong that hath been

done.
I hold myself dishonored by the lords of Carrion.
Redress my combat they must yield; none other will I take.
How now, Infantes! what excuse, what answer do ye make?
Why have ye laid my heartstrings bare? In jest or earnest say.
Have I offended you? and I will make amends to-day.

" My daughters in your hands I placed the day that forth ye went,
And rich in wealth and honors from Valencia were ye sent.
Why did ye carry with you brides ye loved not, treacherous curs?
Why tear their Hesh in Corpes wood with saddle-girths and spurs.
And leave them to the beasts of prey ? Villains throughout were ye !
What answer ye can make to this 'tis for the court to see."

When the Cid added that Alfonso was responsible for
these unfortunate marriages, the monarch admitted the
fact, and asked what the Infantes of Carrion could say in
their own defence. Insolently they declared the Cid's
daughters not worthy to mate with them, stating they had,
on the whole, treated them better than they deserved by
honoring them for a time with their attentions.

Had not the Cid forbidden his followers to speak untU
he granted permission, these words would have been
avenged almost as soon as uttered. But, forgetting his
previous orders, the aged Cid now demanded of Pero Mudo
(Dumby) why he did not speak, whereupon this hero
boldly struck one of the Infantes' party and challenged
them all to fight.

THE cm 125

Thus compelled to settle the difficulty by a judicial duel,
the king bade the Infantes and their uncle be ready to
meet the Cid's champions in the lists on the morrow. The
poem describes the encounter thus :

The marshals leave them face to face and from the lists are gone;
Here stand the champions of my Cid, there those of Carrion;
Each with his gaze intent and fixed upon his chosen foe,
Their bucklers braced before their breasts, their lances pointing low.
Their heads bent down, as each man leans above his saddle-bow.
Then with one impulse every spur is in the charger's side,
And earth itself is felt to shake beneath their furious stride;
Till, midway meeting, three with three, in struggle fierce they lock.
While all account tbem dead who hear the echo of the shock.

The cowardly Infantes, having been defeated, publicly
confessed themselves in the wrong, and were ever after
abhorred, while the Cid returned to Valencia with the
spoils wrung from his adversaries, and proudly presented
to his wife and daughters the three champions who had
upheld their cause.

He who a noble lady wrongs and casts aside — ^may he

Meet like requital for his deeds, or worse, if worse there be.

But let us leave them where they lie — ^their meed is all men's scorn.

Turn we to speak of him that in a happy hour was born.

Valencia the Great was glad, rejoiced at heart to see

The honoured champions of her lord return in victory.

Shortly after this the Cid's pride was further salved by
proposals of marriage from the princes of Aragon and
Navarre, and thus his descendants in due time sat upon
the thrones of these realms.

And he that in a good hour was born, behold how he hath sped!
His daughters now to higher rank and greater honor wed:
Sought by Navarre and Aragon for queens his daughters twain;
And monarchs of his blood to-day upon the thrones of Spain.

Five years now elapsed during which the Cid lived
happy, honored by all and visited by embassies even from
distant Persia. But the Cid was now old and felt his end
near, for St. Peter visited him one night and warned bim
that, although he would die in thirty days, he would
triumph over the Moors even after life had departed.

This assurance was most comforting, for hosts of Moors
had suddenly crossed the seas and were about to besiege

126 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

Valencia. Trusting in St. Peter's warning, the Cid made
all Ms preparations for death, and, knowing his followers
would never be able to hold the city after he was gone,
bade them keep his demise secret, embabn his body, bind
it firmly on his steed Bavieca, and boldly cut their way
out of the city with him in their van.

Just as had been predicted, the Cid died on the thirtieth
day after his vision, and, his corpse having been embalmed
as he directed, his followers prepared to leave Valencia.
To the amazement of the Moors, the gates of the city they
were besieging were suddenly flung open wide, and out
sallied the Christians with the Cid in their midst. The
mere sight of this heroic leader caused such a panic, that
the little troop of six hundred Christian knights safely,
conveyed their dead chief and his family through the
enemy's serried ranks to Castile. Other detachments led
by the bishop and Gil Diaz then drove these Moors back
to Africa after securing immense spoil.

Seeing Valencia abandoned, the Moors whom the Cid
had established without the city returned to take possession
of their former houses, on one of which they discovered
an inscription stating that the Cid Campeador was dead
and would no longer dispute possession of the city.

Meantime the funeral procession had gone on to the
Monastery of St. Pedro de Cardena, where the Cid was
buried, as he requested, and where his marvellously pre-
served body sat in his ivory throne ten years, before it
was placed in its present tomb.

For two years and a half the steed Bavieca was rever-
ently tended by the Cid's followers, none of whom, however,
ever presumed to bestride him. As for Ximena, having
mounted guard over 'her husband's remains four years,
she finally died, leaving grandchildren to rule over Navarre
and Aragon.

And so his honor in the land grows greater day by day.
Upon the feast of Pentecost from life he passed away.
Tor him and all of us the Grace of Christ let us implore.
And here ye have the story of my Cid Campeador.

PORTUGUESE EPICS

PoBTUQxra)SE literature, owing to its late birth, shows
little originality. Besides, its earliest poems are of a purely
lyrical and not of an epical type. Then, too, its reigning
family being of Burgundian extraction, it borrowed its
main ideas and literary material from France. In that
way Charlemagne, the Arthurian romances, and the story
of the Holy Grail became popular in Portugal, where it
is even claimed that Amadis de Gaule originated, although
it received its finished form ia Spain.

The national epic of Portugal is the work of Luis de
Camoens, who, inspired by patriotic fervor, sang in Os
Lusiades of the discovery of the eagerly sought maritime
road to India. Of course, Vasco da Gama is the hero of
this epic, which is described in extenso further on.

In imitation of Camoens, sundry other Portuguese poets
attempted epics on historical themes, but none of their
works possess sufficient merits to keep their memory green.

During the sixteenth century, many versions of the
prose epics or romances of chivalry were rife, Amadis de
Gaule and its sequel, Palmerina d 'Inglaterra, being the
most popular of all.

Later on Meneses composed, according to strict classic
rules, a tedious epic entitled Henriqueida, in praise of the
monarch Henry, and de Macedo left 0 Oriente, an epical
composition which enjoyed a passing popularity.

THE LUSIAD

Introduction. The author of the Portuguese epic, Luis
de Camoens, was bom at Lisbon in 1524. Although his
father, commander of a warship, was lost at sea during his
infancy, his mother contrived to give him a good education,
and even sent him to the University at Coimbra, where he
began to write poetry.

127

128 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

After graduating C'amoens served at court, and there
incurred royal displeasure by falling in love with a lady his
majesty chose to honor with his attentions. During a period
of banishment at Santarem, Camoens began the Lusiad, Os
Lusiades, an epic poem celebrating Vaseo da Gama's jour-
ney to India in 1497^ and rehearsing with patriotic en-
thusiasm the glories of Portuguese history. Owing to its
theme, this epic, which a great authority claims should be
termed "the Portugade," is also known as the Epic of
Commerce or the Epic of Patriotism.

After his banishment Camoens obtained permission to
join the forces directed against the Moors, and shortly
after lost an eye in an engagement in the Strait of Gibraltar.
Although he distinguished himself as a warrior, Camoens
did not even then neglect the muse, for he reports he
wielded the pen with one hand and the sword with the
other.

After this campaign Camoens returned to court, but,
incensed by the treatment he received at the hands of
jealous courtiers, he soon vowed his ungrateful country
should not even possess his bones, and sailed for India, in
1553, in a fleet of four vessels, only one of which was to
arrive at its destination, Goa.

While in India Camoens sided with one of the native
kitfgs, whose wrath he excited by imprudently revealing
his political tendencies. He was, therefore, exiled to Macao,
where for five years he seized as "administrator of the
effects of deceased persons," and managed to amass a con-
siderable fortune while continuing his epic. It was on his
way back to Goa that Camoens suffered shipwreck, and lost
all he possessed, except his poem, with which he swam
ashore.

Sixteen years after his departure from Lisbon, Camoens
returned to his native city, bringing nothing save his com-
pleted epic, which, owing to the pestilence then raging in
Europe, could be published only in 1572. Even then the

» See the author's " Story of the Thirteen Colonies."

THE LUSIAD 129

Lusiad attracted little attention, and won for him only a
small royal pension, which, however, the next king
rescinded. Thus, poor Camoens, being sixty-two years old,
died in an almshouse, having been partly supported since
his return by a Javanese servant, who begged for his master
in the streets of Lisbon.

Camoens' poem Os Lusiades, or the Lusitanians (i.e.,
Portuguese), comprises ten books, containing 1102 stanzas
in heroic iambics, and is replete vdth mythological allusions.
Its outline is as follows:

Book I. After invoking the muses and making a cere-
monious address to King Sebastian, the poet describes how
Jupiter, having assembled the gods on Mount Olympus,
directs their glances upon Vasco da Gama's ships plying
the waves of an unknown sea, and announces to them that
the Portuguese, who have already made such notable mari-
time discoveries, are about to achieve the conquest of India.

Bacchus, who has long been master of this land, there-
upon wrathfuUy vows Portugal shall not rob him of his
domain, while Venus and Mars implore Jupiter to favor
the Lusitanians, whom they' consider descendants of the
Romans. The king of the gods is so ready to grant this
prayer, that he immediately despatches Mercury to guide
the voyagers safely to Madagascar. Here the Portuguese,
mistaken for Moors on account of their swarthy com-
plexions, are at first made welcome. But when the islanders
discover the strangers are Christians, they determine to
annihilate them if possible. So, instigated by one of their
priests, — ^Bacchus in disguise, — ^the islanders attack the
Portuguese when they next land to get water. Seeing his
men in danger. Da Gama discharges his artillery, and the
terrified natives fall upon their knees and not only beg
for mercy, but offer to provide him with a pilot capable
of guiding him safely to India.

This offer is accepted by Da Gama, who does not sus-
pect this pilot has instructions to take him to Quiloa, where
aU Christians are slain. To delude the unsuspecting Portu-
guese navigator into that port, the pilot avers the Quiloans

9

180 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

are Christians; but all his evil plans miscarry, thanks to
the interference of Mars and Venus, who by contrary
winds hinder the vessels from entering this port.

Book II. The traitor pilot now steers toward Mombaga,
where meanwhile Bacchus has been plotting to secure the
death of the Portuguese. But here Venus and her nymphs
block the entrance of the harbor with huge rocks, and the
pilot, realizing the Christians are receiving supernatural
aid, jumps overboard and is drowned !

Venus, having thus twice rescued her proteges from
imminent death, now visits Olympus, and by the exercise
of all her conquettish wiles obtains from Jupiter a promise
to favor the Portuguese. In accordance with this pledge,
Mercury himself is despatched to guide the fleet safely to
Melinda, whose harbor the Portuguese finally enter, decked
with flags and accompanied by triumphant music.

Now Gama's bands the quiv'ring trumpet blow.
Thick o'er the wave the crowding barges row,
The Moorish flags the curling waters sweep.
The Lusian mortars thunder o'er the deep;
Again the fiery roar heaven's concave tears.
The Moors astonished stop their wounded ears;
Again loud thunders rattle o'er the bay,
And clouds of smoke wide-rolling blot the day;
The captain's barge the gen'rous king ascends,
His arms the chief enfold, the captain bends
(A rev'rence to the scepter'd grandeur due) :
In silent awe the monarcli's wond'ring view
Is fix'd on Vasco's noble mien; the while
His thoughts with wonder weigh the hero's toil.
Esteem and friendship with his wonder rise.
And free to Gama all his kingdom lies."

Book III. As Vasco da Gama has solemnly vowed not
to leave his ship until he can set foot upon Indian soil, he
refuses to land at Melinda although cordially invited to do
so by the native king. Seeing the foreign commander will
not come ashore, the king visits the Portuguese vessel, where
he is sumptuously entertained and hears from Da Gama's
own lips an enthusiastic outline of the history of Portugal.

'All the quotations in this chapter are from Mickle's trans-
lation of the " Lusiad."

THE LUSIAD 131

After touching upon events which occurred there in
mythological ages, Vaseo relates how Portugal, under
Viriagus, resisted the Roman conquerors, and what a long
conflict his country later sustained against the Moors. He
also explains by what means Portugal became an independ-
ent kingdom, and enthusiastically describes the patriotism
of his countryman Egas Moniz, who, when his king was
captured at the battle of Guimaraens, advised this prince
to purchase his liberty by pledging himself to do homage
to Castile. But, his master once free, Egas Moniz bade
him retract this promise, saying that, since he and his
family were pledged for its execution, they would rather
lose their lives than see Portugal subjected to Castile.

"And now, O king," the kneeling Egas cries,

" Behold my perjured honor's sacrifice :
If such mean victims can atone thine ire.
Here let my wife, my babes, myself expire.
If gen'rous bosoms such revenge can take,
Here let them perish for the father's sake:
The guilty tongue, the guilty hands are these.
Nor let a common death thy wrath appease;
For us let all the rage of torture burn,
But to my prince, thy son, in friendship turn."

Touched by the patriotism and devotion of Moniz, the
foe not only spared his life, but showered favors upon him
and even allowed him to go home.

The king, thus saved from vassalage by the devotion of
Moniz, is considered the first independent ruler of
Portugal. Shortly after this occurrence, he defeated five
Moorish rulers in the battle of Ourique, where the Portu-
guese claim he was favored with the appearance of a cross
in the sky. Because of this miracle, the Portuguese mon-
arch incorporated a cross on his shield, surrounding it with
five coins, said to represent the five kings he defeated.
Later on, being made a prisoner at Badajoz, he abdicated
in favor of his son.

After proudly enumerating the heroic deeds of various
Alphonsos and Sanchos of Portugal; Da Gama related the
touching tale of Fair Inez de Castro (retold by Mrs.

132 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

Hemans), to whom Don Pedro, although she was below
him in station, was united by a secret marriage. For
several years their happiness was unbroken and several
children had been bom to them before the king, Don Pedro's
father, discovered this alliance. Taking advantage of a
temporary absence of his son, Alphonso the Brave sent for
Inez and her children and sentenced them all to death,
although his daughter-in-law fell at his feet and implored
him to have mercy upon her little ones, even if he would
not spare her. The king, however, would not relent, and
signalled to the courtiers to stab Inez and her children.

In tears she utter'd — as the frozen snow

Touch'd by the spring's mild ray, begins to flow.

So just began to melt his stubborn soul,

As mild-ray'd Pity o'er the tyrant stole;

But destiny forbaide: with eager zeal

(Again pretended for the public weal).

Her fierce accusers urg'd her speedy doom;

Again dark rage diffus'd its horrid gloom

O'er stem Alonzo's brow: swift at the sign,

Their swords, unsheath'd, around her brandish'd shine.

O foul disgrace, of knighthood lasting stain.

By men of arms a helpless lady slain!

On returning home and discovering what his father
had done, Don Pedro was ready to rebel, but was restrained
from doing so by the intervention of the queen. But, on
ascending the throne when his father died, Don Pedro had
the body of his murdered wife lifted out of the grave,
decked in regal apparel, seated on the throne beside him,
and he compelled all the courtiers to do homage to her and
kiss her dead hand, vowing as much honor should be shown
her as if she had lived to be queen. This ceremony ended,
the lady's corpse was laid in a tomb, over which her mourn-
ing husband erected a beautiful monument. Then, hearing
his wife's slayers had taken refuge with Peter the Cruel,
Don Pedro waged war fierce against this monarch until he
surrendered the culprits, who, after being tortured, were
put to death.

Vasco da Gama also related how another king, Fernando,
stole fair Eleanora from her husband, and vainly tried to

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THE LUSIAD 133

force the Portuguese to accept their illegitimate daughter
Beatrice as his successor.

Book IV. Rather than accept as queen a lady who had
married a Spanish prince, — ^who would probably unite their
country with Spain,— the Portuguese fought the battle of
Eljubarota in favor of Don John, and succeeded in dictat-
ing terms of peace to the Spanish at Seville. Some time
after this the king of Portugal and his brother were cap-
tured by the Moors, and told they could recover their
freedom only by surrendering Ceuta. Pretending acquies-
cence, the king returned to Portugal, where, as he had
settled with his brother, who remained as hostage with the
Moors, he refused to surrender the city.

After describing the victories of Alfonso V., Vasco da
Gama related how John II., thirteenth king of Portugal,
first began to seek a" maritime road to India, and how his
successor, Emmanuel, was invited in a vision, by the gods
of the Indus and Ganges, to come and conquer their
country.

Here as the monarch flx'd his wond'ring eyes.

Two hoary fathers from the streams arise;

Their aspect rustic, yet, a reverend grace

Appear'd majestic on their wrinlcled face:

Their tawny beards uncomb'd, and sweepy long,

Adown their knees in shaggy ringlets hung;

From every lock the crystal drops distil,

And bathe their limbs, as In a trickling rill;

tray wreaths of flowers, of fruitage and of boughs,

(Nameless in Europe), crown'd their furrow'd brows.

Booh V. Such was the enthusiasm caused by this vision
that many mariners dedicated their lives to the discovery
of this road to India. Among these Gama modestly claims
his rank, declaring that, when he called for volunteers to
accompany him, more men than he could take were ready
to follow him. [History reports, however, that, such was the
terror inspired by a voyage in unknown seas, Vasco da
Gama had to empty the prisons to secure a crew!] Then
the narrator added he had — as was customary — taken ten
prisoners with him, whose death sentence was to be com-

134 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

muted provided they faithfully carried out any difficult
task he appointed.

After describing his parting with his father, Vasco da
Gama relates how they sailed past Mauritania and Madeira,
crossed the line, and losing sight of the polar star took the
southern cross as their guide.

" O'er the wild waves, as southward thus we stray.
Our port unknown, unknown the wat'ry way.
Each night we see, impress'd with solemn awe,
Our guiding stars and native skies withdraw.
In the wide void we lose their cheering beams.
Lower and lower still the pole-star gleams.

Another pole-star rises o'er the wave:
Full to the south a shining cross appears.
Our heaving breasts the blissful omen cheers:
Seven radiant stars compose the hallow'd sign
That rose still higher o'er the wavy brine."

A journey of five months, diversified by tempests, electrical
phenomena, and occasional landings, brought them to Cape
of Tempests, which since Diaz had rounded it was called
the Cape of Good Hope. While battling with the tem-
pestuous seas of this region, Vasco da Gama beheld, in the
midst of sudden darkness, Adamastor, the Spirit of the
Cape, who foretold all manner of dangers from which it
would be difficult for them to escape.

" We saw a hideous phantom glare;
High and enormous o'er the ilood he tower'd,
And 'thwart our way with sullen aspect lower'd:
An earthy paleness o'er his cheeks was spread.
Erect uprose his hairs of wither'd red;
Writhing to speak, his sable lips disclose.
Sharp and disjoin'd, his gnashing teeth's blue rows;
His haggard beard flow'd qniv'ring on the wind.
Revenge and horror in his mien combin'd;
His clouded front, by with'ring lightnings scar'd.
The inward anguish of his soul declared.
His red eyes, glowing from their dusky caves.
Shot livid fires: far echoing o'er the waves
His voice resounded, as the cavern'd shore
With hollow groan repeats the tempest's roar."

THE LUSIAD 135

The King of Melinda here interrupts Vasco da Gama's
tale to explain he has often heard of that Adamastor, a
Titan transformed into a rock but still possessing super-
natural powers.

Resuming his narrative, Da Gama next describes their
landing to clean their foul ships, their sufferings from
scurvy, their treacherous welcome at Mozambic, their nar-
row escape at Quiloa and Mombaca, and ends his account
with his joy at arriving at last at Melinda.

Book VI. In return for the hospitality enjoyed on
board of the Portuguese ships, the king of Melinda sup-
plies Da Gama with an able pilot, who, steering straight
for India, brings the Portuguese safely to their goal, in
spite of the fact that Bacchus induces Neptune to stir up
sundry tempests to check them. But, the prayers of the
Christian crew and the aid of Venus counteract Bacchus'
spells, so Da Gama's fleet enters Calicut, in 1497, and the
Lusitanians thus achieve the glory of discovering a mari-
time road to India !

Book VII. We now hear how a Moor, Mongaide, de-
tained a prisoner in Calicut, serves as interpreter for Da
Gama, explaining to him how this port is governed by
the Zamorin, or monarch, and by his prime minister. The
interpreter, at Da Gama's request, then procures an audi-
ence from the Zamorin for his new master.

Book VIII. The poet describes how on the way to the
palace Da Gama passes a heathen temple, where he and his
companions are shocked to behold countless idols, but where
they can but admire the wonderful carvings adorning the
waUs on three sides. In reply to their query why the ^f ourth
wall is bare, they learn it has been predicted India shall
be conquered by strangers, whose doings are to be depicted
on the fourth side of their temple.

After hearing Da Gama boast about his country, the
Zamorin dismisses him, promising to consider a trade treaty
with Portugal. But, during the next night, Bacchus, dis-
guised as Mahomet, appears to the Moors in Calicut, and bids
them inform the Zamorin that Da Gama is a pirate, whose

136 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

rich goods he can secure if he will only follow their advice.

This suggestion, duly carried out, results in Da Gama's
detention as a prisoner when he lands with his goods on
the next day. But, although the prime minister fancies
the Portuguese fleet wiU soon be in his power, Da Gama
has prudently given orders that, should any hostile demon-
stration occur before his return, his men are to man the
guns and threaten to bombard the town. When the Indian
vessels therefore approach the Portuguese fleet, they are
riddled with shot.

Book IX. Because the Portuguese next threaten to
attack the town, the Zamorin promptly sends Da Gama
back with a cargo of spices and gems and promises of fair
treatment hereafter. The Portuguese thereupon sail home,
taking with them the faithful Mongaide, who is converted
on the way and baptized as soon as they land at Lisbon.

Book X. On the homeward journey Venus, wishing to
reward the brave Lusitanians for all their pains and in-
demnify them for their past hardships, leads them to her
"Isle of Joy." Here she and her nymphs entertain them
in the most acceptable mythological style, and a siren fore-
tells in song aU that will befall their native country be-
tween Vasco da Gama's journey and Camoens' time. Venus
herself guides the navigator to the top of a hiU, whence she
vouchsafes him a panoramic view of all the kingdoms of
the earth and of the spheres which compose the universe.

In this canto we also have a synopsis of the life of
St. Thomas, the Apostle of India, and see the Portuguese
sail happily off with the beauteous brides they have won
in Venus' Isle of Joy. The return home is safely effected,
and our bold sailors are welcomed in Lisbon with delirious
joy, for their journey has crowned Portugal with glory.
The poem concludes, as it began, with an apostrophe from
the poet to the king.

The Lusiad is so smoothly written, so harmonious, and
so fuU of similes that ever since Camoens' day it has served
as a model for Portuguese poetry and is even yet an
accepted and highly prized classic in Portuguese Literature.

ITALIAN EPICS

The fact that Latin remained so long the chief literary-
language of Europe prevented an early development of
literature in the Italian language. Not only were all the
popular European epics and romances current in Italy in
Latin, but many of them were also known in Provengal
in the northern part of the peninsula. It was, therefore,
chiefly imitations of the Provengal bards' work which first
appeared in Italian, in the thirteenth century, one of the
best poets of that time being the SordeUo with whom
Dante converses in Purgatory.

Stories relating to the Charlemagne cycle found par-
ticular favor in Northern Italy, and especially at Venice.
In consequence there were many Italian versions of these
old epics, as well as of the allegorical Roman de la Rose.

It was at the court of Frederick II, in Sicily, that the
first real school of Italian poetry developed, and from there
the custom of composing exclusively in the vernacular
spread over the remainder of the country. These early
poets chose love as their main topic, and closely imitated
the Provencal style. Then the "dolce stU nuovo," or sweet
new style, was introduced by Guinicelli, who is rightly con-
sidered the first true Italian poet of any note. The earliest
Italian epic, the "Buovo d'Antona," and an adaptation of
Reynard the Fox, were current in the first half of the thir-
teenth century at Venice and elsewhere. In the second half
appeared prose romances, such as tales about Arthur and
his knights, the journey of Marco Polo, and new renderings
of the old story of Troy.

Professional story-tellers now began to wander from
place to place in Northern and Central Italy, entertaining
auditors of all classes and ages with stories derived from
every attainable source. But the first great epic poet in
Italy was Dante (1265-1321), whose Divina Commedia,
begun in 1300, is treated separately in this volume.

137

138 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

Although Petrarch was prouder of his Latin than of
his Italian verses, he too greatly perfected Italian poetry,
thus enabHag his personal friend Boccaccio to handle the
language with lasting success in the tales which compose
his Decameron. These are the Italian equivalents of the
Canterbury Tales, and in several cases both writers have
used the same themes.

By the fifteenth century, and almost simultaneously
with the introduction of printing, came the Renaissance,
when a number of old epics were reworked. Roland — or,
as he is known in Italy, Orlando — is the stock-hero of this
new school of poets, several of whom undertook to relate
his love adventures. Hence we have "Orlando Innamor-
ato," by Boiardo and Bemi, as weU as "Morgante Mag-
giore" by Pulei, where Roland also figures. In style
and tone these works are charming, but the length of
the poems and the involved adventures of their numerous
characters prove very wearisome to modem readers. Next
to Dante, as a poet, the Italians rank Ariosto, whose
"Orlando Furioso," or Roland Insane, is a continuation of
Boiardo 's "Orlando Innamorato." Drawing much of his
material from the French romances of the Middle Ages,
Ariosto breathes new life into the old subject and graces
his tale with a most charming style. His subject was
parodied by Folengo iu his "Orlandino" when Roland
began to pall upon the Italian public.

The next epic of note in Italian literature is Torquato
Tasso's "Gerusalemme Liberata," composed in the second
half of the sixteenth century, and still immensely popular
owing to its exquisite style. Besides this poem, of which
Godfrey of Bouillon is the hero and which is par excellence
the epic of the crusades, Tasso composed epics on
"Rinaldo," on "Gerusalemme Conquistata, " and "Sette
Giomate del Mundo Creato."

Some of Ariosto 's contemporaries also attempted the
epic style, including Trissino, who in his "Italia Liberata"
relates the victories of Belisarius over the Goths in blank
verse. His fame, however, rests on "Sofonisba," the first

DIVINE COMEDY 139

Italian tragedy, in fact "the first regular tragedy in all
modern literature."

Although no epics of great note were written there-
after, Alamanni composed "Girone il C'ortese" and the
"Avarchide," which are intolerably long and wearisome.

"The poet who set the fashion of fantastic ingenuity"
was Marinus, whose epic "Adone," in twenty cantos, dilates
on the tale of Venus and Adonis. He also wrote "Geru-
salemme Distrutta" and "La Strage degl' Innocenti," and
his poetry is said to have much of the charm of Spenser's.

The last Italian poet to produce a long epic poem was
Fortiguerra, whose " Ricciardetto " has many merits,
although we are told the poet wagered to complete it in
as many days as it has cantos, and won his bet.

The greatest of the Italian prose epics is Manzoni's novel
"I Promessi Sposi," which appeared in 1830. Since then
Italian poets have not written in the epic vein, save to
give their contemporaries excellent metrical translations of
Milton's Paradise Lost, of the Iliad, the Odyssey, the
Argonautica, the Lusiad, etc.

DIVINE COMEDY

THE INFERNO

Introduction. In the Middle Ages it was popularly
believed that Lucifer, falling from heaven, pimched a deep
hole in the earth, stopping only when he reached its centre.
This funnel-shaped hole, directly under Jerusalem, is
divided by Dante into nine independent circular ledges,
communicating only by means of occasional rocky stairways
or bridges. In each of these nine circles are punished sinners
of a certain kind.

Canto I. In 1300, when thirty-five years of age, Dante
claims to have strayed from the straight path in the
"journey of Ufe," only to encounter experiences bitter as
death, which he relates in aUegorieal form to serve as warn-
ing to other sinners. Rousing from a stupor not unlike
sleep, the poet finds himself in a strange forest at the foot

140 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

of a sun-kissed mountain. On trying to climb it, he is
turned aside by a spotted panther, an emblem of luxury
or pleasure (Florence), a fierce lion, personifying ambition
or anger (France), and a ravening wolf, the emblem of
avarice (Eome). Fleeing in terror from these monsters,
Dante beseeches aid from the only fellow-creature he sees,
only to learn he is Virgil, the poet and master from whom
he learned "that style which for its beauty into fame
exalts me."

Then Virgil reveals he has been sent to save Dante from
the ravening wolf (which also personifies the papal or
Guelf party), only to guide him through the horrors of
the Inferno, and the sufferings of Purgatory, up to
Paradise, where a "worthier" spirit will attend him.

Canto II. The length of the journey proposed daunts
Dante, until Virgil reminds him that cowardice has often
made men relinquish honorable enterprises, and encourages
him by stating that Beatrice, moved by love, forsook her
place in heaven to bid him serve as Dante's guide. He
adds that when he wondered how she could leave, even for
a moment, the heavenly abode, she explained that the
Virgin Mary sent Lucia, to bid her rescue the man who had
loved her ever since she was a child. Like a flower revived
after a chilly night by the warmth of the sun, Dante, in-
vigorated by these words, intimates his readiness to foUow
Virgil.

Canto III. The two travellers, passing through a wood,
reach a gate, above which Dante perceives this inscription:

"Through me you pass into the city of woe:
Through me you pass into eternal pain:
Through me among the people lost for aye.
Justice the founder of my fabric moved:
To rear me was the task of power divine,
Supremest vrisdom, and primeval love.
Before me things create were none, save things
Eternal, and eternal I endure.
All hope abandon, ye who enter here." '

'All the quotations in Divine Comedy are taken from Gary's
translation.

DIVINE COMEDY 141

Unable to grasp its meaning, Dante begs Virgil to in-
terpret, and learns they are about to descend into Hades.
Having visited this place before, Virgil boldly leads Dante
through this portal into an ante-hell region, where sighs,
lamentations, and groans pulse through the starless air.
Shuddering with horror, Dante inquires what it all means,
only to be told that the souls "who lived without praise or
blame," as well as the angels who remained neutral during
the war in heaven, are confined in this place, since Para-
dise, Purgatory, and Inferno equally refuse to harbor them
and death never visits them.

While he is speaking, a long train of these unfortunate
spirits, stung by gadflies, sweeps past them, and in their
ranks Dante recognizes the shade of Pope Celestine V,
who, "through cowardice made the grand renunciation,"
— i.e., abdicated his office at the end of five months, simply
because he lacked courage to face the task intrusted to him.

Passing through these spirits with downcast eyes, Dante
reaches Acheron, — ^the river of death, — where he sees, steer-
ing toward them, the ferry-man Charon, whose eyes are
like fiery wheels and who marvels at beholding a living man
among the shades. When Charon grimly orders Dante back
to earth, Virgil silences him with the brief statement: "so
'tis will'd where will and power are one. " So, without fur-
ther objection, Charon allows them to enter his skiff and
hurries the rest of his freight aboard, beating the laggards
with the flat of his oar. Because Dante wonders at such
ill-treatment, Virgil explains that good souls are never
forced to cross this stream, and that the present passengers
have richly deserved their punishment. Just then an earth-
quake shakes the whole region, and Dante swoons in terror.

Canto IV. When he recovers his senses, Dante finds
bimsftlf no longer in Charon's bark, but on the brink of a
huge circular pit, whence arise, like emanations, moans and
wails, but wherein, owing to the dense gloom, he can descry
nothing. Warning him they are about to descend into the
"blind world," and that his sorrowful expression — ^which

142 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

Dante ascribes to fear — ^is caused by pity, Virgil conducts
his disciple into the first circle of hell. Instead of lamenta-
tions, only sighs are heard, while Virgil explains that this
semi-dark limbo is reserved for unbaptized children, and
for those who, having lived before Christ, must "live desir-
ing without hope." Pull of compassion for these sufferers,
Dante inquires whether no one from above ever visited
them, and is told that One, bearing trophies of victory,
once arrived there to ransom the patriarchs Adam, Abel,
Noah, and others, but that until then none had ever been
saved.

Talking busily, the two wend their way through a
forest of sighing spirits, until they approach a fire, around
which dignified shades have gathered. Informing Dante
these are men of honored reputations, Virgil points out
among them four mighty figures coming to meet them, and
whispers they are Homer, Horace, Ovid, and Luean. After
conversing for a while with Virgil, these bards graciously
welcome Dante as sixth in their poetic galaxy. Talking of
things which cannot be mentioned save in such exalted
company, Dante walks on with them until he nears a castle
girdled with sevenfold ramparts and moat. Through seven
consecutive portals the six poets pass on to a meadow, where
Dante beholds all the creations of their brains, and meets
Hector, Aeneas, Camilla, and Lucretia, as well as the
philosophers, historians, and mathematicians who from
time to time have appeared upon our globe. Although
Dante would fain have lingered here, his guide leads him
on, and, as their four companions vanish, they two enter
a place "where no light shines."

Canto v. Stepping down from this circle to a lower
one, Dante and Virgil reach the second circle of the In-
ferno, where all who lived unchaste lives are duly punished.

Smaller in circumference than the preceding circle for

Dante's hell is shaped like a graduated funnel, — ^this place
is guarded by the judge Minos, who examines all newly
arrived souls, and consigns them to their appointed circles
by an equal number of convolutions in his tail.

DIVINE COMEDY 143

For when before him comes the ill-fated soul.
It all confesses; and that judge severe
Of sins, considering what place in hell
Suits the transgression, with his tail so oft
Himself encircles, as degrees beneath
He dooms it to descend.

On beholding Dante, Minos speaks threateningly, but,
when Virgil again explains they have been sent hither
by a higher power, Minos too allows them to pass. In-
creasing sounds of woe now strike Dante's ear, until pres-
ently they attain the intensity of a deafening roar. Next
he perceives that the whirlwind, sweeping violently round
this abyss, holds in its grasp innumerable spirits which are
allowed no rest. Like birds in a tempest they swirl past
Dante, to whom Virgil hastily points out Semiramis, Dido,
Cleopatra, Helen, Achilles, Paris, and Tristan, together
with many others.

Obtaining permission to address two shades floating
toward him, Dante learns that the man is the Paolo who
fell in love with his sister-in-law, Francesca da Rimini.
Asked how she happened to fall, the female spirit, moan-
ing there is no greater woe than to recall happy times in the
midst of misery, adds that while she and Paolo read to-
gether the tale of Launcelot they suddenly realized they
loved in the same way, and thus fell into the very sin
described in this work, for "book and writer both were
love's purveyors." Scarcely has she confessed this when
the wind, seizing Francesca and Paolo, again sweeps them
on, and Dante, hearing their pitiful moans, swoons from
compassion.

Canto VI. Recovering his senses, Dante finds Virgil
has meantime transferred him to the third circle, a region
where chill rains ever fall, accompanied by hail, sleet, and
snow. Here all guilty of gluttony are rent and torn by
Cerberus, main ruler of this circle. Flinging a huge fistful
of dirt into the dog's gaping jaws to prevent his snapping
at them, Virgil leads Dante quickly past this three-headed
monster, to a place where they tread on the shades which
pave the muddy ground, One of these, sitting up, sud-

144 THE BOOK OP THE EPIC

denly inquires of Dante wlietlier he does not recognize
him, adding that he is the notorious Florentine glutton
Ciacco. Fancying this shade may possess some insight
into the future, Dante inquires what is to become of his
native city, and learns that one poUtical party will drive
out the other, only to fall in its turn three years later. The
glutton adds that only two just men are left in Florence,
and, when Dante asks what has become of his friends,
tells him he will doubtless meet them in the various circles
of Hades, should he continue his downward course.

Then the spirit begs that, on returning to the "pleasant
world, ' ' Dante will recall him to his friends ' memory, and,
closing his eyes, sinks back among the other victims, all of
whom are more or less blind. Vouchsafing the information
that this sinner will not rise again "ere the last angel-
trumpet blow," Virgil leads Dante dver the foul mixture
of shades and mud, explaining that, although the accursed
can never hope to attain perfection, they are not entirely
debarred from improvement.

Canto VII. Talking thus, the two travellers descend
to the fourth circle, ruled by Plutus, god of wealth, who
allows them to proceed, only after Virgil has informed him
their journey is ordained, and is to be pursued to the very
spot where Michael confined Satan. The mere mention
of his master, the ex-archangel, causes Plutus to grovel;
and Dante and Virgil, proceeding on their journey, dis-
cover that the fourth circle is occupied by all whom avarice
mastered, as well as by prodigals, who are here condemned
to roll heavy rocks, because their lives on earth were spent
scuffling for money or because they failed to make good use
of their gold. Dante descries among the victims tonsured
poUs, proving that monks themselves are not exempt from
these sins. Meanwhile Virgil expounds how the Creator
decreed nations should wield the mastery in turn, adding
that these people are victims of Fortune, whose proverbial
fickleness he ably describes.

After passing a weU, whose boiUng waters overflow
and form a stream, they foUow the latter 's downward

DIVINE COMEDY 145

course to the marsh, called Styx, where hundreds of naked
creatures wallow in the mire, madly clutching and striking
each other. Virgil explains that these are those "whom
anger overcame," and adds that the sullen are buried be-
neath the slimy waters, where their presence is betrayed
by bubbles caused by their breath which continually rise
to the surface. Edging around this loathsome pool, the
two poets finally arrive at the door of a tall tower.

Canto VIII. From the lofty turret flash flaming
signals, evidently designed to summon some bark or ferry,
since a vessel soon appears. Once more Virgil has to
silence a snarling boatman (Phlegyas) ere he can enter
his skiff, where he invites Dante to follow him. Then they
row across the mire, whence heads keep emerging from
time to time. One of the sufferers confined here suddenly
asks Dante, "Who art thou that earnest ere thine hour?"
only to be hastily assured the poet does not intend to stay.
Just as Dante expresses the wish to know whom he is
addressing, he recognizes this sinner (Argenti) and turns
from him in loathing, an act which wins Virgil's approval.
When Dante further mutters he wishes this monster were
stifled in the mud, Virgil suddenly points to a squad of
avenging spirits who, sweeping downward, are about to
fulfil this cruel wish, when the culprit rends himself to
pieces with his ovra teeth and plunges back into the Styx.

Sailing along, Virgil tries to prepare Dante for their
arrival at the city of Dis, whose minarets, colored by a fiery
glow from within, now shine in the distance. Steered into
the moat surrounding this city, the travellers slowly circle
its iron walls, from which hosts of lost souls lean clamoring,
"Who is this that without death first felt goes through
the region of the dead?" When Virgil signals he will
explain, the demons disappear as if to admit them; but,
when the travellers reach the gates, they find them still
tightly closed. Virgil then explains that these very demons
tried to oppose even Christ's entrance to Hades, and adds
that their power was broken on the first Easter Day.

Canto IX, Quailing with terror, Dante hears Virgil

10

146 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

admit that few have undertaken to tread these paths,
although they are familiar to him, seeing that, guided by
a witch (the Sibyl of Cumaea), he came here with Aeneas.
While Virgil is talking, the three Furies appear on top of
the tower, and, noting the intruders, clamor for Medusa
to come and turn them into stone! Bidding Dante avoid
the Gorgon's petrifying glance, Virgil further assures the
safety of his charge by holding his hands over Dante's
eyes. While thus blinded, the author of the poem hears
waves splash against the shore, and, when Virgil's hands
are removed, perceives an angel walking dry-shod over
the Styx. At a touch from his hand, the gates of Dis open
wide, and, without paying heed to the poets, who have in-
stinctively assumed the humblest attitude, their divine
rescuer recrosses the bog, leaving them free to enter into
the iron fortress. There they find countless sinners cased
in red-hot cofiSns sunk in burning marl. On questioning
his guide, Dante learns each open sepulchre contains an
arch-heretic, or leader of some religious sect, and that each
tomb is heated to a degree corresponding to the extent of
the harm done by its occupant's teachings.

Canto X. Gingerly treading between burning tombs
and fortress wall, Virgil conducts Dante to an open sepul-
chre, where lies the Ghibelline leader Farinata. Partly
rising out of his glowing tomb, this warrior informs Dante
that the Guelfs — ^twice driven out of Florence — ^have re-
turned thither. At that moment another victim, peering
over the edge of his coffin, anxiously begs for news of his
son Guido, thus proving that, while these unfortunates
know both past and future, the present remains a mystery
to them. Too amazed at first to speak, Dante mentions
Guido in the past tense, whereupon the unhappy father,
rashly inferring his son is dead, plunges back into his
sepulchre with a desperate cry. Not being able to correct
his involuntary mistake and thus comfort this sufferer,
Dante begs Farinata to inform his neighbor, as soon as
possible, that his son is still alive. Then, perplexed by all
he has seen and heard, Dante passes thoughtfully on, noting

DIVINE COMEDY 147

the victims punished in this place, until, seeing his dismay,
Virgil comforts him with the assurance that Beatrice will
explain all he wishes to know at the end of his journey.

Canto XI. The poets now approach a depression,
whence arises a stench so nauseating that they are compelled
to take refuge behind a stone tomb to avoid choking.
"While they pause there, Dante perceives this sepulchre
bears the name of Pope Anastasius, who has been led
astray. Tarrying there to become acclimated to the smell,
Virgil iaforms his companion they are about to pass
through three gradations of the seventh circle, where are
punished the violent, or those who by force worked injury
to God, to themselves, or to their fellowmen.

Canto XII. His charge sufficiently prepared for what
awaits him, Virgil leads the way down a steep path to the
next rim, where they are confronted by the Minotaur, be-
fore whom Dante quails, but whom Virgil defies by mention-
ing Theseus. Taking advantage of the moment when the
furious, bull-like monster charges at him with lowered head,
Virgil runs with Dante down a declivity, where the stones,
unaccustomed to the weight of mortal feet, slip and roll in
ominous fashion. This passage, Virgil declares, was less
dangerous when he last descended into Hades, for it has
since been riven by the earthquake which shook this region
when Christ descended into hell.

Pointing to a boiling river of blood (Phlegethon) be-
neath them, Virgil shows Dante sinners immersed in it at
different depths, because while on earth they offered violence
to their neighbors. Although anxious to escape from these
bloody waters, the wicked are kept within their appointed
bounds by troops of centaurs, who, armed with bows and
arrows, continually patrol the banks. When these guards
threateningly challenge Virgil, he calmly rejoins he wishes
to see their leader, Chiron, and, while awaiting the arrival
of this worthy, shows Dante the monster who tried to kid-
nap Hercules' wife.

On drawing near them, Chiron' is amazed to perceive
one of the intruders is alive, as is proved by the fact that

148 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

he casts a shadow and that stones roll beneath his tread!
Noticing his amazement, Virgil explains he has been sent
here to guide his mortal companion through the Inferno,
and beseeches Chiron to detail a centaur to carry Dante
across the river of blood, since he cannot, spirit-like, tread
air. Selecting Nessus for this duty, Chiron bids him con-
vey the poet safely across the bloody stream, and, ■whUe
performing this ofSce, the centaur explains that the victims
more or less deeply immersed in blood are tyrants who
delighted in bloodshed, such as Alexander, Dionysius, and
others. Borne by Nessus and escorted by Virgil, Dante
reaches the other shore, and, taking leave of them, the
centaur "alone repass 'd the ford."

Canto XIII. The travellers now enter a wild forest,
which occupies the second division of the seventh circle,
where Virgil declares each barren thorn-tree is inhabited
by the soul of a suicide. In the gnarly branches perch the
Harpies, whose uncouth lamentations echo through the air,
and who greedily devour every leaf that sprouts. Appalled
by the sighs and wailrngs around him, Dante questions
Virgil, who directs him to break off a twig. No sooner has
he done so than he sees blood trickle from the break and
hears a voice reproach him for his cruelty. Thus Dante
learns that the inmate of this tree was once private secretary
to Frederick II, and that, having fallen into unmerited
disgrace, he basely took refuge in suicide. This victim's
words have barely died away when the blast of a horn is
heard, and two naked forms are seen fleeing madly before
a huntsman and a pack of mastiffs. The latter, pouncing
upon one victim, tears him to pieces, while Dante shudders
at this sight. Meantime Virgil explains that the culprit
was a young spendthrift, ajid that huntsman and hounds
represent the creditors whose pursuit he tried to escape by
killing himself.

Canto XIV. Leaving this ghastly forest, Dante is led
to the third division of this circle, a region of burning
sands, where hosts of naked souls lie on the ground, blist-
ered and scathed by the rain of fire and vaMy tr3nng to

DIVINE COMEDY 149

lessen their pain by thrashing themselves with their hands.
One figure, the mightiest among them, alone seems indiffer-
ent to the burning rain, and, when Dante inquires who
this may be, Virgil returns it is Capaneus (one of the seven
kings who besieged Thebes ^), who, in his indomitable pride,
taunted Jupiter and was slain by his thunderbolt.

Treading warily to avoid the burning sands, Virgil
and his disciple cross a ruddy brook which flows straight
down from Mount Ida in Crete, where it rises at the foot
of a statue whose face is turned toward Bome. Virgil ex-
plains that the waters of this stream are formed by the
tears of the unhappy, which are plentiful enough to feed
the four mighty rivers of Hades! While following the
banks of this torrent, Dante questions why they have not
yet encountered the other two rivers which fall into the
pit ; and discovers that, although they have been travelling
in a circle, they have not by far completed one whole round
of the gigantic funnel, but have stepped down from one
ledge to the other after walking only a short distance around
each circumference.

Canto XV. The high banks of the stream of tears pro-
tect our travellers from the burning sands and the rain of
fire, until they encounter a procession of souls, each one of
which stares fixedly at them. One of these recognizes
Dante, who in his turn is amazed to find there his old
school-master Ser Brunetto, whom he accompanies on his
way, after he learns he and his fellow-sufferers are not
allowed to stop, under penalty of lying a hundred years
without fanning themselves beneath the rain of fire. Walk-
ing by his former pupil's side, Brunetto in his turn ques-
tions Dante and learns how and why he has come down here,
ere he predicts that in spite of persecutions the poet will
ultimately attain great fame.

Canto XVI. Reaching a spot where the stream they
are following suddenly thunders down into the eighth
circle, Dante beholds three spirits running toward him,

' See the author's " Story of the Greeks."

150 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

whirling round one another "in one restless wheel," while
loudly exclaiming his garb denotes he is their feUow
cotmtryman ! Gazing into their fire-scarred faces, Dante
learns these are three powerful Guelfs; and when they
crave tidings of their native city, he tells them all that
has recently occurred there. Before vanishing these spirits
piteously implore him to speak of them to mortals on his
return to earth, and leave Dante and Virgil to follow the
stream to the verge of the abyss. There Virgil loosens
the rope knotted around Dante's waist, and, casting one
end of it down into the abyss, intimates that what he is
awaiting will soon appear. A moment later a monster
rises from the depths, climbing hand over hand up the
rope.

Canto XVII. This monster is Geryon, the personifica-
tion of fraud, and therefore a mixture of man, beast, and
serpent. When he reaches the upper ledge, Virgil bar-
gains with him to carry them down, while Dante converses
with neighboring sorrowful souls, who are perched on the
top of the cliff and hide their faces in their hands. All
these spirits wear purses around their necks, because as
.usurers while on earth they lived on ill-gotten gains. Not
daring to keep his guide waiting, Dante leaves these sinners,
and hurries back just as Virgil is taking his seat on the
monster's back. Grasping the hand stretched out to him,
Dante then timorously mounts beside his guide.

"Ab one, who hath an ague fit so near,
His nails already are turn'd blue, and he
Quivers all o'er, if he but eye the shade;
Such was my cheer at hearing of his words.
But shame soon interposed her threat, who makes
The servant bold in presence of his lord.

I settled me upon those shoulders huge,
And would have said, but that the words to aid
My purpose came not, ' Look thou clasp me firm.' "

Then, bidding Dante hold fast so as not to fall, Virgil
gives the signal for departure. Wheeling slowly, Geryon
flies downward, moderating his speed so as not to unseat

DIVINE COMEDY 151

his passengers. Comparing his sensations to those of
Phaeton falling from the sun-chariot, or to Icarus' horror
when he dropped into the sea, Dante describes how, as
they circled down on the beast's back, he caught fleeting
glimpses of fiery pools and was almost deafened by the
rising chorus of wails. With a falcon-like swoop Geryon
finally alights on the next level, and, having deposited his
passengers at the foot of a splintered rock, darts away like
an arrow from a taut bow-string.

1 Canto XVIII. The eighth circle, called Malebolge
(Evil Pits), is divided into ten gulfs, between which rocky
arches form bridge-like passages. This whole' region is of
stone and ice, and from the pit in the centre continually
rise horrid exhalations. Among the unfortunates inces-
santly lashed by horned demons in the first gulf, Dante
perceives one who was a notorious pander on earth and
who is justly suffering the penalty of his crimes. Later
on, watching a train of culprits driven by other demons,
Dante recognizes among them Jason, who secured the
Golden Fleece, thanks to Medea, but proved faithless toward
her in the end.

Crossing to the second division, Dante beholds sinners
buried in dung, in punishment for having led astray their
feUow-creatures by flattery. One of them, — ^whom the poet
recognizes, — emerging from his filthy bath, sadly confesses,
"Me thus low down my flatteries have sunk, wherewith I
ne'er enough could glut my tongue." In this place Dante
also notes the harlot Thais, expiating her sins, with other
notorious seducers and flatterers.

Canto XIX. By means of another rocky bridge the
travellers reach the third gulf, where are punished all
who have been guilty of simony. These are sunk, head
first, in a series of burning pits, whence emerge only the
red-hot soles of their convulsively agitated feet. Seeing a
ruddier flame hover over one pair of soles, Dante timidly
inquires to whom they belong, whereupon Virgil, carrying
him down to this spot, bids him seek his answer from the
culprit himself. Peering down into the stone-pit, Dante

152 THE BOOK OP THE EPIC

then timidly proffers his request, only to be hotly reviled
by Pope Nicholas III, who first mistakes his interlocutor
for Pope Boniface, and confesses he was brought to this
state by nepotism. But, when he predicts a worse pope
will ultimately follow him down into this region, Dante
sternly rebukes him.

Canto XX. Virgil is so pleased with Dante's speech to
Pope Nicholas that, seizing him in his arms, he carries
him swiftly over the bridge which leads to the fourth
division. Here Dante beholds a procession of chanting
criminals whose heads are turned to face their backs. This
sight proves so awful that Dante weeps, until Virgil bids
him note the different culprits. Among them is the witch
Manto, to whom Mantua, his native city, owes its name,
and Dante soon learns that all these culprits are the famous
soothsayers, diviners, magicians, and witches of the world,
who thus are punished for having presumed to predict the
future.

Canto XXI. From the top of the next bridge they
gaze into a dark pit, where public peculators are plunged
into boiling pitch, as Dante discovers by the odor, which
keenly reminds him of the shipyards at Venice. Virgil
there directs Dante's attention toward a demon, who hurls
a sinner headlong into the boiling tar, and, without watch-
ing to see what becomes of him, departs in quest of some
other victim. The poet also perceives that, whenever a
sinner's head emerges from the pitchy waves, demons thrust
him down again by means of long forks. To prevent his
charge falling a prey to these active evil spirits, Virgil
directs Dante to hide behind a pillar of the bridge and
from thence watch all that is going on.

"While Dante lurks there, a demon, descrying him, is
about to attack him, but Virgil so vehemently proclaims
they are here by Heaven's will that the evil spirit drops
his fork and becomes powerless to harm them. Perceiving
the effect he has produced, Virgil then summons Dante from
his hiding-place, and sternly orders the demon to guide

DIVINE COMEDY 153

them safely through the raxiks of his grimacing fellows,
all of whom make obscene gestures as they pass.

Canto XXII. Dante, having taken part in battles, is
famihar with military manoeuvres, but he declares he
never behold such ably marshalled troops as the demon
hosts through which they pass. Prom time to time he
sees a devil emerge from the ranks to plunge sinners back
into the lake of pitch, or to spear one with his fork and,
after letting him squirm aloft for a while, hurl him back
into the asphalt lake. One of these victims, questioned by
Virgil, acknowledges he once held office in Navarre, but,
rather than suffer at the hands of the demon tormentors,
this peculator voluntarily plunges back into the pitch.
Seeing this, the baffled demons fight each other, until two
actually fall into the lake, whence they are fished in sowy
plight by fellow-fiends.

Canto XXIII. By a passage-way so narrow they are
obliged to proceed single file, Dante and Virgil reach the
next division, the author of this poem continually gazing
behind him for fear lest the demons pursue him. His fears
are only too justified, and Virgil, seeing his peril, catches
him up in his arms and runs with him to the next gulf,
knowing demons never pass beyond their beat.

"Never ran water with such hurrying pace
Adown the tube to turn a land-mill's wheel.
When nearest it approaches to the spokes,
As then along that edge my master ran,
Carrying me in his bosom, as a child.
Not a companion."

In the sixth division where they now arrive, they behold
a procession of victims, weighed down by gilded leaden
cowls, creeping along so slowly that Dante and Virgil pass
all along their line although they are not walking fast.
Hearing one of these bowed figures address him, Dante
learns that, because he and his companions were hypocrites
on earth, they are doomed to travel constantly around this
circle of the Inferno, fainting beneath heavy loads.

A moment later Dante notices that the narrow path

154 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

ahead of tliem is blocked by a writhing figure pitmed to
the ground by three stakes. This is Caiaphas, who in-
sisted it was fitting that one man suffer for the people and
who, having thus sentenced Christ to the cross, has to en-
dure the whole procession to tramp over his prostrate form.
The cowled figure with whom Dante is conversing informs
him, besides, that in other parts of the circle are Ananias
and the other members of the Sanhedrim who condemned
Christ. Deeming Dante has now seen enough of this
region, Virgil inquires where they can find an exit from
this gulf, and is shown by a spirit a steep ascent.

Cam,to XXIV. So precipitous is this passage that
Virgil half carries his charge, and, panting hard, both
scramble to a ledge overhanging the seventh gulf of Male-
bolge, where innumerable serpents prey upon naked rob-
bers, whose hands are bound behind them by writhing
snakes. Beneath the constant bites of these reptiles, the
robber-victims turn to ashes, only to rise phcenix-like a
moment later and undergo renewed torments. Dante con-
verses with one of these spirits, who, after describing his
own misdeeds, prophesies in regard to the future of
Florence.

Canto XXV. The blasphemous speeches and gestures
of this speaker are sUeneed by an onslaught of snakes,
before whose attack he attempts to flee, only to be over-
taken and tortured by a serpent-ridden centaur, whom
Virgil designates as Cacus. Further on, the travellers be-
hold three culprits who are alternately men and writhing
snakes, always, however, revealing more of the reptile than
of the human nature and form.

"The other two
Look'd on, exclaiming, 'Ah! How dost thou change,
Agnello! See! thou art nor double now
Nor only one.' The two heads now became
One, and two figures blended in one form
Appear'd, where both were lost. Of the four lengths
Two arms were made: the belly and the chest,
The thighs and legs, into such members changed
As never eye hath seen."

DIVINE COMEDY 155

Canto XXVI. From another bridge Dante gazes down
into the eighth gulf, where, in the midst of the flames, are
those who gave evil advice to their fellow-creatures. Here
Dante recognizes Diomedes, Ulysses, and sundry other
heroes of the Iliad, — ^with whom his guide speaks, — and
learns that Ulysses, after his return to Ithaca, resumed his
explorations, ventured beyond the pillars of Hercules, and,
while sailing in the track of the sun, was drowned in sight
of a high mountain.

Canto XXVII. In the midst of another bed of flames,
Dante next discovers another culprit, to whom he gives the
history of the Romagna, and whose life-story he hears be-
fore following his leader down to the ninth gulf of Male-
bolge.

Canto XXVIII. In this place Dante discovers the
sowers of scandal, schism, and heresy, who exhibit more
wounds than all the Italian wars occasioned. Watching
them, Dante perceives that each victim is ripped open by
a demon's sword, but that his wounds heal so rapidly that
every time the spirit passes a demon again his torture is
renewed. Among these victims Dante recognizes Mahomet,
who, wondering that a living man should visit hell, points
out Dante to his fellow-shades. Passing by the travellers,
sundry victims mention their names, and Dante thus dis-
covers among them the leaders of strife between sundry
Italian states, and shudders when Bertrand de Bom, a
fellow minstrel, appears bearing his own head instead of
a lantern, in punishment for persuading the son of
Henry II, of England, to rebel..

Canto XXIX. Gazing in a dazed way at the awful
sights of this circle, Dante learns it is twenty-one miles
in circumference, ere he passes on to the next bridge, where
lamentations such as assail one's ears in a hospital con-
stantly arise. In the depths of the tenth pit, into which
he now peers, Dante distinguishes victims of all manners
of diseases, and learns these are the alchemists and forgers
undergoing the penalty of their sins. Among them Dante
perceives a man who was buried alive on earth for offering

156 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

to teach mortals to fly ! So preposterous did such a claim
appear to Miaoa — ^judge of the dead — ^that he ruthlessly
condemned its originator to undergo the punishment
awarded to magicians, alchemists, and other pretenders.

Ccmto XXX. Virgil now points out to Dante sundry
impostors, perpetrators of fraud, and false-coiners, among
whom we note the woman who falsely accused Joseph, and
Sinon, who persuaded the Trojans to convey the wooden
horse into their city. Not content with the tortures in-
flicted upon them, these criminals further increase each
others' sufferings hy cruel taunts, and Dante, fascinated by
what he sees, lingers beside this pit, until Virgil cuttingly
intimates "to hear such wrangling is a joy for vulgar
minds."

Canto XXXI. Touched by the remorseful shame which
Dante now shows, Virgil draws him on until they are
almost deafened by a louder blast than was uttered by
Roland's horn at Roncevaux. Peering in the direction of
the sound, Dante descries what he takes for lofty towers,
until Virgil informs him that when they draw nearer still
he will discover they are giants standing in the lowest pit
but looming far above it in the mist. Ere long Dante stares
in wonder at chained giants seventy feet tall, whom Virgil
designates as Nimrod, Ephialtes, and Antaeus.

As with circling round
Of turrets, Monter^gion crowns his walls;
E'en thus the shore, encompassing the abyss,
Was turreted with giants, half their length
Uprearing, horrible, whom Jove from heaven
Yet threatens, when his muttering thunder rolls

Antaeus being unchained, Virgil persuades him to lift
them both down in the hollow of his hands to the next
level, "where guilt is at its depth." Although Dante's
terror in the giant's grip is almost overwhelming, he is
relieved when his feet touch the ground once more, and
he watches with awe as the giant straightens up again like
the mast of a huge ship.

DIVINE COMEDY 167

" Yet in the abyss.
That Lucifer with Judas low ingulfs,
Lightly he placed us; nor, there leaning, stay'd;
But rose, as in a barque the stately mast"

Canto XXXII. Confessing that it is no easy task to
describe the bottom of the universe which he has now
reached, Dante relates how perpendicular rocks reached
up on all sides as far as he could see. He is gazing upward
in silent wonder, when Virgil suddenly cautions him to
beware lest he tread upon some unfortunate. Gazing down
at his feet, Dante then becomes aware that he is standing
on a frozen lake, wherein stick fast innumerable sinners,
whose heads alone emerge, cased in ice owing to the tears
constantly flowing down their cheeks.

Seeing two so close together that their very hair seems
to mingle, Dante, on inquiring, learns they are two brothers
who slew each other in an inheritance quarrel, for this is
Caina, the region where the worst murderers are punished,
and, like every other part of the Inferno, it is crowded
with figures.

"A thousand visages
Then mark'd I, which the keen and eager cold
Had shaped into a doggish grin; whence creeps
A shivering horror o'er me, at the thought
Of those frore shallows."

It happens that, while following his guide over the
ice, Dante's foot strikes a projecting head. Permission
being granted bim to question its owner, Dante, because he
at first refuses to speak, threatens to pull every hair out
of his head, and actually gives him a few hard tugs. Then
the man admits he is a traitor and that there are many
others of his ilk in Antenora, the second division of the
lowest circle.

Canto XXXIII. Beholding another culprit greedily
gnawing the head of a companion, Dante learns that while
on earth this culprit was Count Ugolino de'GherardeBchi,
whom his political opponents, headed by the Archbishop
Ruggiero, seized by treachery and locked up in the Famine-
tower at Pisa, with two sons and two grandsons. Ugolino

158 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

feelingly describes his horror when one momiag he heard
them nail up the door of the prison, and realized he and
his were doomed to starve ! Not a word did the prisoners
exchange regarding their fate, although all were aware
of the suffering awaiting them. At the end of twenty-four
hours, beholding traces of hunger in the beloved faces of
his children, Ugolino gnawed his fists in pain. One of his
grandsons, interpreting this as a sign of unbearable hunger,
then suggested that he eat one of them, whereupon he
realized how needful it was to exercise self -control if he
did not wish to increase the sufferings of the rest. Ugolino
then describes how they daily grew weaker, until his grand-
sons died at the end of the fourth day, vainly begging him
to help them. Then his sons passed away, and, groping
blindly among the dead, he lingered on, until, famine be-
coming more potent than anything else, he yielded to its
demands. Having finished this grewsome tale, Ugolino
continued his feast upon the head of his foe !

" Thus having spoke,
Once more upon the wretched skull his teeth
He fasten'd like a mastiff's 'gainst the bone,
Firm and unyielding."

Dante, passing on, discovers many other victims en-
cased in the ice, and is so chiUed by a glacial breeze that
his face muscles stiffen. He is about to ask Virgil whence
this wind proceeds, when one of the ice-encrusted victims
implores him to remove its hard mask from his face. Prom-
ising to do so in return for the man's story, Dante learns
he is a friar who, in order to rid himself of inconvenient
kinsmen, invited them all to dinner, where he suddenly
uttered the fatal words which served as a signal for hidden
assassins to despatch them. When Dante indignantly ex-
claims the perpetrator of this heinous deed is on earth,
the criminal admits that, although his shadow still lingers
above ground, his soul is down here in Ptolomea, under-
going the penalty for his sins. Hearing this, Dante refuses
to clear away the ice, and excuses himself to his readers
by stating "ill manners were best courtesy to him."

DIVINE COMEDY 159

Canto XXXIV. Virgil now directs Dante's glance
ahead, until our poet dimly descries what looks like, an
immense windmill. Placing Dante behind him to shield
him a little from the cruel blast, Virgil leads him past
countless culprits, declaring they have reached Judecca, a
place where it behooves bim to arm his heart with strength.
So stiff with cold that he is hovering between life and
death, Dante now beholds Dis or Satan, — Emperor of the
Infernal Eegions, — sunk in ice down to his waist, and dis-
covers that the wind is caused by the constant flutter of his
bat-like wings. He also perceives that Satan is as much
larger than the giants just seen, as they surpass mankind,
and states that, were the father of evil as fair as he is foul,
one might understand his daring to defy God.

" If he were beautiful
As he Is hideous now, and yet did dare
To scowl upon his Maker, well from him
May all our misery flow."

Then Dante describes Satan's three heads, one red, one
yellow and white, and one green, declaring that the arch-
fiend munches in each mouth the sinners Judas, Cassius,
and Brutus. After allowing Dante to gaze a while at this
appalling sight, Virgil informs his charge that, having seen
all, it behooves them to depart. With a brief order to
Dante to cling tightly around his neck, Virgil, seizing a
moment when Satan's wings are raised, darts beneath them,
and clutching the demon 's shaggy sides painfully descends
toward the centre of the earth. Down, down they go until
they reach the evil spirit's thighs, where, the centre of
earth's gravity being reached, Virgil suddenly turns around
and begins an upward climb with his burden. Although
Dante fully expects soon to behold Satan's head once more,
he is amazed to discover they are climbing up his leg.
Then, through a chimney-like ascent, where the climbing
demands all their strength, Dante and Virgil ascend toward
the upper air.

Explaining they are about to emerge at the antipodes

160 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

of the spot where they entered Hades, where they will
behold the great Western Sea, Virgil adds they will find in
its centre the Mount of Purgatory, constructed of the
earth displaced by Satan's fall. Thus, Dante and his leader
return to the bright world, and, issuing from the dark pas-
sage in which they have been travelling, once more behold
the stars!

" By that hidden way
My guide and I did enter, to return
To the fair world: and heedless of repose
We climb'd, he first, I following his steps,
Till on our view the beautiful lights of heaven
Dawn'd through a circular opening in the cave:
Thence issuing we again beheld the stars."

PURGATORY

Canto I. About to sing of a region where htunaa spirits
are purged of their sins and prepared to enter heaven,
Dante invokes the aid of the muses. Then, gazing about
him, he diseovera he is in an atmosphere of sapphire hue,
all the more lovely because of the contrast with the infernal
gloom whence he has just emerged. It is just before dawn,
and he beholds with awe four bright stars, — ^the Southern
Cross, — ^which symbolize the four cardinal virtues (Pru-
dence, Justice, Fortitude, and Temperance).

After contemplating these stars awhile, Dante, turning
to the north to get his bearings, perceives Virgil has been
joined in this ante-purgatorial region by Cato, who wonder-
ingly inquires how they escaped "the eternal prison-house."

Virgil's gesture and example have meantime forced
Dante to his knees, so it is in this position that the Latin
poet explains how a lady in heaven bade him rescue Dante
— ^before it was too late — ^by guiding him through hell and
showing him how sinners are cleansed in Purgatory. The
latter part of Virgil's task can, however, be accomplished
only if Cato will allow them to enter the realm which he
guards. Moved by so eloquent a plea, Cato directs Virgil
to wash all traces of tears and of infernal mirk from Dante's

DIVINE COMEDY 161

face, girdle him with a reed in token of humility, and then
ascend the Mount of Purgatory, — formed of the earthy
core ejected from Hades, — ^which he points out in the mid-
dle of a lake with reedy shores.

Leading his charge in the early dawn across a meadow,
Virgil draws his hands first through the dewy grass and
then over Dante 's face, and, having thus removed 'all visible
traces of the passage through Hades, takes him down to the
shore to girdle him with a pliant reed, the emblem of
humility.

Canto II. Against the whitening east they now behold a
ghostly vessel advancing toward them, and when it ap-
proaches near enough they descry an angel standing at its
prow, his outspread wings serving as sails. While Dante
again sinks upon his knees, he hears, faintly at first, the
passengers in the boat staging the psalm "When Israel
went out of Egypt."

Making a sign of the cross upon each passenger's brow,
the angel allows his charges to land, and vanishes at sun-
rise, just as the new-comers, turning to Virgil, humbly in-
quire the way to the mountain. Virgil rejoins that he
too is a recent arrival, although he and his companion
travelled a far harder road than theirs. His words mak-
ing them aware of the fact that Dante is a living man,
the spirits crowd around him, eager to touch him. Among
them he recognizes the musician Casella, his friend.
Unable to. embrace a spirit, — although he tries to do so, —
Dante, after explaining his own presence here, begs Casella
to comfort all present by singing of love. Just as this
strain ends, Cato reappears, urging them to hasten to the
mountain and there cast aside the scales which conceal
God from their eyes. At these words all the souls present
scatter like a covey of pigeons, and begin ascending the
mountain, whither Virgil and Dante slowly follow them.

" As a wild flock of pigeons, to their food
Collected, blade or tares, without their pride
Accustomed, and in still and quiet sort.
If aught alarm them, suddenly desert
11

162 THE BOOK OP THE EPIC

Their meal, assail'd by more important care;
So I that new-come troop beheld, the song
Deserting, hasten to the mountain's side.
As one who goes, yet, where he tends, knows not."

Canto III. While painfully ascending the steep slope,
Dante, seeing only his own shadow lengthening out before
him, fears his guide has abandoned him, and is relieved to
see Virgil close behind him and to hear him explain that
disembodied spirits cast no shadow. While they are talk-
ing, they reach the foot of the mountain and are daunted
by its steep and rocky sides. They are vainly searching
for some crevice whereby they may hope to ascend, when
they behold a slowly advancing procession of white-robed
figures, from whom Virgil humbly inquires the way.

" As sheep, that step from forth their fold, by one.
Or pairs, or three at once; meanwhile the rest
Stand fearfully, bending the eye and nose
To ground, and what the foremost does, that do
The others, gathering round her if she stops.
Simple and quiet, nor the cause discern;
So saw I moving to advance the first.
Who of the fortunate crew were at the head.
Of modest mien, and graceful in their gait.
When they before me had beheld the light
From my right side fall broken on the ground.
So that the shadow reach'd the cave; they stopp'd.
And somewhat back retired: the same did all
Who follow'd, though unwitting of the cause."

These spirits too are startled at the sight of a living
being, but, when Virgil assures them Dante is not here
without warrant, they obligingly point out "the straight
and narrow way" which serves as entrance to Purgatory.
This done, one spirit, detaching itself from the rest, in-
quires whether Dante does not remember Manfred, King of
Naples and Sicily, and whether he will not, on his return
to earth, inform the princess that her father repented of
his sins at the moment of death and now bespeaks her
prayers to shorten his time of probation.

Canto IV. Dazed by what he has just seen and heard,
Dante becomes conscious of his surroundings once more,

DIVINE COMEDY 163

only when the sun stands considerably higher, and when
he has arrived at the foot of a rocky pathway, up which
he painfully follows Virgil, helping himself with his
hands as well as his feet. Arrived at its top, both gaze
wonderingly around them, and perceive by the position
of the sun that they must be at the antipodes of Florence,
where their journey began. Panting with the exertions
he has just made, Dante expresses some fear lest his
strength may fail him, whereupon Virgil kindly assures
him the way, so arduous at first, will become easier and
easier the higher they ascend.

Just then a voice, addressing them, advises them to
rest, and Dante, turning, perceives, among other spirits,
a sitting figure, in whom he recognizes a friend noted for
his laziness. On questioning this spirit, Dsmte learns that
this friend, Belacqua, instead of exerting himself to elimb
the mount of Purgatory, is idly waiting in hopes of being
wafted upward by the prayers of some "heart which
lives in grace." Such slothfulness irritates Virgil, who
hurries Dante on, warning him the sun has already reached
its meridian and night will all too soon overtake them.

Canto v. Heedless of the whispered comments behind
him because he is opaque and not transparent like the
other spirits, Dante follows Virgil, until they Overtake a
band of spirits chanting the Miserere. These too seem
surprised at Dante's density, and, when assured he is
alive, eagerly inquire whether he can give them any tidings
of friends and families left on earth. Although all present
are sinners who died violent deaths, as they repented at
the last minute they are not whoUy excluded from hope
of bliss. Unable to recognize any of these, Dante never-
theless listens to their descriptions of their violent ends,
and promises to enlighten their friends and kinsmen in
regard to their fate.

Ccmto VI. Because Virgil moves on, Dante feels con-
strained to follow, although the spirits continue to pluck
at his mantle, imploring him to hear what they have to
say. Touched by the sorrows of men of his own time or

164 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

famous in history, Dante wistfully asks his guide whether
prayers can ever change Heaven's decrees, and learns
that true love can work miracles, as he will perceive when
he beholds Beatrice. The hope of meeting his beloved face
to face causes Dante to urge his guide to greater speed
and almost gives wings to his feet. Presently Virgil directs
his companion's attention to a spirit standing apart, in
whom Dante recognizes the poet Sordello, who mourns
because Mantua — ^his native city as well as Virgil's — drifts
in these political upheavals like a pilotless vessel in the
midst of a storm.

Canto VII. Virgil now informs Sordello that he, Virgil,
is debarred from all hope of heaven through lack of faith.
Thereupon Sordello reverently approaches him, calling him
"Glory of Latium," and inquiring whence he comes. Virgil
explains how, led by heavenly influence, he left the dim
limbo of ante-heU, passed through all the stages of the
Inferno, and is now seeking the place "Where Purgatory
its true beginning takes." Sordello rejoins that, while he
will gladly serve as guide, the day is already so far gone
that they had better spend the night in a neighboring dell.
He then leads Virgil and Dante to a hollow, where, rest-
ing upon fragrant flowers, they prepare to spend the night,
with a company of spirits who chant "Salve Regina."
Among these the new-comers recognize with surprise sundry
renowned monarchs, whose doings are briefly described.

Canto VIII. Meantime the hour of rest has come, the
hour described by the poet as —

Now was the hour that wakens fond desire
In men at sea., and melts their thoughtful heart
Who in the morn have bid sweet friends farewell,
And pilgrim newly on his road with love
Thrills, if he hear the vesper bell from far
That seems to mourn for the expiring day.

Dante and Virgil then witness the evening devotions of
these spirits, which conclude with a hymn so soft, so
devout, that their senses are lost in ravishment. When it
has ended, the spirits all gaze expectantly upward, and

DIVINE COMEDY 165

soon behold two green-clad angels, with flaming swords,
who alight on eminences at either end of the glade. These
heavenly warriors are sent by Mary to mount guard dur-
ing the hours of darkness so as to prevent the serpent from
gliding unseen into their miniature Eden. Still led by
Sordello, the poets withdraw to a leafy recess, where Dante
discovers a friend whom he had cause to believe detained
in hell. This spirit explains he is not indeed languish-
ing there simply because of the prayers of his daughter
Giovanna, who has not forgotten him although his wife has
married again.

Dante is just gazing with admiration at three stars
(symbols of Faith, Hope, and Charity), when Sordello
suddenly points out the serpent, who is no sooner descried
by the angels than they swoop down and put him to flight.

" I saw not, nor can tell,
How those celestial falcons from their seat
Moved, but in motion each one well descried.
Hearing the air cut by their verdant plumes.
The serpent fled; and, to their stations, back
The angels up retum'd with equal flight."

Canto IX. Dante falls asleep in this valley, but, just as
the first gleams of Hght appear, he is favored by a vision,
wherein — like Ganymede — ^he is borne by a golden-feathered
eagle into a glowing fire where both are consumed. Waken-
ing with a start from this disquieting dream, Dante finds
himself in a different spot, with no companion save Virgil,
and notes the sun is at least two hours high.

Virgil now assures him that, thanks to Santa Lucia
(type of God's grace), he has in sleep been conveyed to
the very entrance of Purgatory. Gazing at the high cliffs
which encircle the mountain, Dante now perceives a deep
cleft, through which he and Virgil arrive at a vast
portal (the gate of penitence), to which three huge steps
of varying color and size afford access. At the top of
these steps, on a diamond threshold, sits the Angel of Abso-
lution with his flashing sword. Challenged by this warder,
Virgil explains that they have been guided hither by Santa

166 THE BOOK OP THE EPIC

Lucia, at whose name the angel bids them draw near. Up
a polished step of white marble -(which typifies sincerity),
a dark step of cracked stone (symbol of contrition), and
one of red porphyry (emblem of self-sacrifice), Dante
arrives at the angel's feet and humbly begs him to unbar
the door. In reply the angel inscribes upon the poet's brow,
by means of his sword, seven P's, to represent the seven
deadly sins (in Italian peccata), of which mortals must be
purged ere they can enter Paradise.

After bidding Dante have these signs properly effaced,
the angel draws from beneath his ash-hued mantle the
golden key of authority and the silver key of discernment,
stating that when St. Peter entrusted them to his keeping
he bade him err "rather in opening than in keeping fast."
Then, the gate open, the angel bids them enter, adding
the solemn warning "he forth again departs who looks
behind."

Canto X. Mindful of this caution, Dante does not turn,
although the gates close with a clash behind him, but fol-
lows his guide along a steep pathway. It is only after
painful exertions they reach the first terrace of Purgatory,
or place where the sin of pride is punished. They now
pass along a white marble cornice, — some eighteen feet
wide, — ^whose walls are decorated with sculptures which
would not have shamed the best masters of Greek art.
Here are represented such subjects as the Annunciation,
David dancing before the Ark, and Trajan granting the
petition of the unfortunate widow. Proceeding along this
path, they soon see a procession of spirits approaching, all
bent almost double beneath huge burdens. As they creep
along, one or another gasps from time to time, ' ' I can endure
no more."

Canto XI. The oppressed spirits fervently pray for
aid and forgiveness, while continuing their weary tramp
"around this cornice, where they do penance for undue
pride. Praying they may soon be delivered, Virgil inqtures
of them where he can find means to ascend to the next circle,
and is told to accompany the procession which will soon

DIVINE COMEDY 167

pass the place. The speaker, although unable to raise his
head, confesses his arrogance while on earth so incensed
his feUow-creatures that they finally rose up against him
and murdered him. Stooping so as to catch a glimpse of
the bent face, Dante realizes he is talking to a miniature
painter who claimed to be without equal, and therefore has
to do penance.

The noise
Of worldly fame is but a blast of wind.
That blows from diverse points, and shifts its name.
Shifting the point it blows from.

Canto XII. Journeying beside the bowed painter (who
names some of his fellow-sufferers), Dante's attention is
directed by Virgil to the pavement beneath his feet, where
he sees carved Briareus, Nimrod, Niobe, Arachne, Saul, etc.,
— ^in short, all those who dared measure themselves with
the gods or who cherished overweening opinions of their
attainments. So absorbed is Dante in contemplation of
these subjects that he starts when told an angel is coming
to meet them, who, if entreated with sufficient humility,
will doubtless help them reach the next level.

The radiant-faced angel, robed in dazzling white, in-
stead of waiting to be implored to help the travellers,
graciously points out steps where the rocks are sundered
by a cleft, and, when Dante obediently climbs past him, a
soft touch from his wings brushes away the P. which stands
for pride, and thus frees our poet of all trace of this heinous
sin. But it is only on reaching the top of the stairway
that Dante becomes aware of this fact.

Canto XIII. The second ledge of purgatory, which they
have now reached, is faced with plain gray stone, and
Virgil leads his companion a full mile along it ere they
become aware of a flight of invisible spirits, some of whom
chant "They have no wine!" while the others respond
"Love ye those who have wrong 'd you." These are those
who, having sinned through envy, can be freed only by
the exercise of charity. Then, bidding Dante gaze fixedly,

168 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

Virgil points out this shadowy host, clothed in sackcloth,
sitting back against the rocks, and Dante takes particular
note of two figures supporting each other. He next dis-
covers that one and all of these victims have their eyeUds
sewn so tightly together with wire that passage is left only
for streams of penitential tears.

When allowed to address them, Dante, hoping to com-
fort them, offers to bear back to earth any message they wish
to send. It is then that one of these spirits informs Dante
that on earth she was Sapia, a learned Siennese, who, hav-
ing rejoiced when her country was defeated, is obliged to
do penance for heartlessness. Marvelliug that any one
should wander among them with eyes unclosed, she in-
quires by what means Dante has come here, bespeaks his
prayers, and implores him to warn her countrymen not to
cherish vain hopes of greatness or to sin through envy.

Canto XIY. The two spirits leaning close together, in
their turn question who Virgil and Dante may be? When
they hear mention of Rome and Florence, they hotly in-
veigh against the degeneracy of dwellers on the banks of
the Tiber and Arno.

Shortly after leaving this place with his guide, Dante
hears the wail: "Whosoever finds will slay me," a cry
followed by a deafening crash.

Canto XV. Circling round the mountain, always in
the same direction, Dante notes the sun is about to set,
when another dazzling angel invites them up to the next
level, — ^where anger is punished, — ^by means of a stairway
less steep than any of the preceding. As they climb, the
angel softly chants "Blessed the merciful" and "Happy
thou that conquer 'st," while he brushes aside the second
P., and thus cleanses Dante from envy. But, when Dante
craves an explanation of what he has heard and seen, Virgil
assures him that only when the five remaining "sears"
have vanished from his brow, Beatrice herself can satisfy
his curiosity.

On reaching the third level, they find themselves en-
veloped in a dense fog, through which Dante dimly beholds

DIVINE COMEDY 169

the twelve-year-old Christ in the Temple and overhears his
mother chiding him. Next he sees a woman weeping, and
lastly Stephen stoned to death.

Canto XVI. Urged by his guide to hasten through this
bitter blinding fog — a symbol of anger which is punished
here — Dante stumbles along, mindful of Virgil's caution,
"Look that from me thou part not." Meanwhile voices
on all sides invoke "the Lamb of God that taketh away
the sins of the world." Then, all at once, a voice addresses
Dante, who, prompted by Virgil, inquires where the next
stairway may be? His interlocutor, after bespeaking
Dante's prayers, holds forth against Rome, which, boasting
of two suns, — the pope and the emperor, — ^has seen the one
quench the other. But the arrival of an angel, sent to
guide our travellers to the next level, soon ends this con-
versation.

Canto XVII. Out of the vapors of anger — as dense
as any Alpine fog — Dante, who has caught glimpses of
famous victims of anger, such as Haman and Lavinia,
emerges with Virgil, only to be dazzled by the glorious
light of the sun. Then, climbing the ladder the angel
points out, Dante feels him brush away the third obnoxious
P., while chanting, "Blessed are the peacemakers." They
now reach the fourth ledge, where the sin of indifference
or sloth is punished, and, as they trudge along it, Virgil
explains that all indifference is due to a lack of love, a
virtue on which he eloquently discourses.

Canto XVIII. A multitude of spirits now interrupt
Virgil, and, when he questions them, two, who lead the
rest, volubly quote examples of fervent affection and zealous
haste. They are closely followed by other spirits, the
backsliders, who, not having had the strength or patience to
endure, preferred inglorious ease to adventurous life and
are now consumed with regret.

Canto XIX. In the midst of a trance which overtakes
him, Dante next has a vision of the Siren which beguiled
Ulysses and of Philosophy or Truth. Then, morning hav-
ing dawned, Virgil leads him to the next stairway, up which

170 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

an angel wafts them, chanting "Blessed are they that
mourn, for they shall be comforted," while he brushes
away another sin scar from our poet's forehead.

In this fifth circle those guilty of avarice under^
punishment by being chained fast to the earth to which they
clung, and which they bedew with penitent tears. One of
these, questioned by Dante, reveals he was Pope Adrian V.,
who, dying a month after his elevation to the papal chair,
repented in time of his grasping past. When Dante kneels
compassionately beside this august sufferer, he is implored
to warn the pope's kinswoman to eschew the besetting sin
of their house.

Canto XX. A little further on, among the grovelling
figures which closely pave this fifth cornice, Dante beholds
Hugues Capet, founder of the third dynasty of French
kings, and stigmatized as " root of that ill plant," because
this poem was composed only a few years after Philip IV 's
criminal attempt against Pope Boniface at Agnani. The
poets also recognize there Pygmalion (brother of Dido),
Midas, Achan, Heliodorus, and Crassus,^ ere they are
startled by feeling the whole mountain tremble beneath
them and by hearing the spirits exultantly cry "Glory to
God!"

Canio XXI. Clinging to Virgil in speechless terror,
Dante hears his guide assure the spirit which suddenly
appears before them that the Pates have not yet finished
spinning the thread of his companion's life. When ques-
tioned by the travellers in regard to the noise and earth-
quake, this spirit informs them that the mountain quivers
with joy whenever a sinner is released, and that, after
undergoing a punishment of five hundred years, he — Statiua
— ^is now free to go in quest of his master Virgil, whom he
has. always longed to meet. Dante's smile at these words,
together with his meaning glance at Virgil, suddenly re-
veal to the spirit that his dearest wish is granted, and

' See the author's " Story of the Chosen People," and " Story
of the Komans."

DIVINE COMEDY 171

Statius reverently does obeisance to the poet from whose
fount he drew his inspiration.

Canto XXII. The three bards are next led by an
angel up another staircase, to the sixth cornice (Dante
losing another P. on the way), where the sios of gluttony
and drunkenness are punished. As they circle around this
ledge, Dante questions how Statius became guilty of the
sin of covetousness, for which he was doomed to tramp
around the fifth circle? In reply Statius rejoins that it
was not because of covetousness, but of its counterpart,
over-lavishness, that he suffered so long, and principally
because he was not brave enough to own himself a Christian.
Then he inquires of Virgil what have become of their fel-
low-countrymen Terence, Caecilius, Plautus, and Varro,
only to learn that they too linger in the dark regions of
ante-hell, where they hold sweet converse with other pagan
poets.

Reverently listening to the conversation of his compan-
ions, Dante drinks in "mysterious lessons of sweet poesy"
and silently follows them until they draw near a tree laden
with fruit and growing beside a crystal stream. Issuing
from this tree a voice warns them against the sin of glut-
tony— ^which is punished in this circle — and quotes ^sueh
marked examples of abstinence as Daniel feeding on pulse
and John the Baptist living on locusts and wild honey.

Canto XXIII. Dante is still dumbly staring at the
mysterious tree when Virgil bids him follow, for they still
have far to go. They next meet weeping, hollow-eyed
spirits, so emaciated that their bones start through their
skin. One of these reec^nizes Dante, who is aghast that
his friend Forese should be in such a state and escorted by
two skeleton spirits. Porese replies that he and his com-
panions are consumed by endless hunger and thirst,
although they eat and drink without ever being satisfied.
When Dante expresses surprise because a man only five
years dead should already be so high up the mount of
Purgatory, Forese explains that his wife's constant prayers
have successively freed him from detention in the other

172 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

circles. In return Dante states why he is here and names
his companions.

Canto XXIV. Escorting the three travellers on their
way, Forese inquires what has become of his sister, Pic-
earda, ere he points out sundry spirits, with whom Dante
converses, and who predict the coming downfall of his
political foes. But these spirits suddenly leave Dante to
dart toward trees, which tantalizingly withold their fruit
from their eager hands, while hidden voices loudly extol
temperance.

Canto XXV. In single file the three poets continue
their tramp, commenting on what they have seen, and
Statius expounds his theories of life. Then they ascend
to the seventh ledge, where glowing fires purge mortals of
all sensuality. Even as they toil toward this level, an
angel" voice extols chastity, and Dante once more feels the
light touch which he now associates with the removal of
one of the scars made by the angel at the entrance of
Purgatory. Arrived above, the poets have to tread a nar-
row path between the roaring fires and the abyss. So
narrow is the way, that Virgil bids Dante beware or he
win be lost!

" Behoved us, one by one, along the side,
That border'd on the void, to pass; and I
Fear'd on one hand the fire, on the other fear'd
Headlong to fall: when thus the instructor warn'd;
' Strict rein must in this place direct the eyes.
A little swerving and the way is lost.' "

As all three warily proceed, Dante hears voices in the
fiery furnace alternately imploring the mercy of God and
quoting examples of chastity, such as Mary and Diana, and
couples who proved chaste though married.

Canto XXVI. As the poets move along the rim, Dante 's
shadow, cast upon the roaring flames, causes such wonder
to the victims undergoing purification that one of them in-
quires who he may be. Just as Dante is about to answer,
his attention is attracted by hosts of shadows, who, after
exchanging hasty kisses, dash on, mentioning such famous

DIVINE COMEDY 173

examples of dissoluteness as Pasiphae, and the men who
caused the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah. Turning
to his interlocutor, Dante then explains how he came hither
and expresses a hope he may soon be received in bliss. The
grateful spirit then gives his name, admits he sang too
freely of carnal love, and adds that Dante would surely
recognize many of his- fellow-sufferers were he to point
them out. Then, bespeaking Dante's prayers, he plunges
back into the fiery element which is to make him fit for
Paradise.

Canto XXYII. Just as the sun is about to set, an angel
approaches them, chanting "Blessed are the pure in heart,"
and bids them fearlessly pass through the wall of fire which
alone stands between them and Paradise. Seeing Dante
hang back timorously, Virgil reminds him he will find
Beatrice on the other side, whereupon our poet plunges
recklessly into the glowing furnace, where both his com-
panions precede him, and whence all three issue on an up-
ward path. There they make their couch on separate steps,
and Dante gazes up at the stars until he falls asleep and
dreams of a lovely lady, culling flowers in a meadow, sing-
ing she is Lea (the mediaeval type of active life), and
stating that her sister Rachel (the emblem of contemplative
life) spends the day gazing at herself in a mirror.

At dawn the pilgrims awake, and Virgil assures Daaate
before this day ends his hunger for a sight of Beatrice will
be appeased. This prospect so lightens Dante's heart that
he almost soars to the top of the stairway. There Virgil,
who has led "him throngh temporal and eternal fires, bids
bim follow his pleasure, until he meets the fair lady who
bade him undertake this journey.

" Till those bright eyes
With gladness come, whiob, weeping, made me haite
To succor thee, thou mayst or seat thee dowp,
Or wander where thou wilt. Expect no more
SazLction of warning voice or sign from me,
Free of thine own arbitrament to choose.
Discreet, judicious. To distrust thy sense
Were henceforth error. I invest thee then
With crown and mitre, sovereign o'er thyself."

174 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

Canto XXVIII. Through the Garden of Eden Elante
now strolls with Statins and Virgil, until he beholds, on
the other side of a pellucid stream (whose waters have the
"power to take away remembrance of offence")) a beautiful
lady (the countess Matilda), who smiles upon him. Then
she informs Dante she has come to "answer every doubt"
he cherishes, and, as they wander along on opposite sides
of the stream, she expounds for his benefit the creation of
man, the fall and its consequences, and informs him how
all the plants that grow on earth originate here. The water
at his feet issues from an unquenchable fountain, and
divides into two streams, the first of which, Lethe, "chases
from the mind the memory of sin," while the waters of
the second, Eunoe, have the power to recall "good deeds
to one's mind."

Canto XXIX. Suddenly the lady bids Dante pause,
look, and hearken. Then he sees a great light on the op-
posite shore, hears a wonderful music, and soon beholds a
procession of spirits, so bright that they leave behind them
a trail of rainbow-colored light. First among them march
the four and twenty elders of the Book of Eevelations;
they are followed by four beasts (the Evangelists), and a
,gryphon, drawing a chariot (the Christian Church or
Papal chair), far grander than any that ever graced im-
perial triumph at Rome. Personifications of the three
evangelical virtues (Charity, Faith, and Hope) and of the
four moral virtues (Prudence, etc.), together with St. Luke
and St. Paul, the four great Doctors of the Church, and
the apostle St. John, serve as body-guard for this chariot,
which comes to a stop opposite Dante with a noise like
thunder.

Canto XXX. The wonderful light, our poet now per-
ceives, emanates from a seven-branched candlestick, and
illuminates all the heavens like an aurora borealis. Then,
amid the chanting, and while angels shower flowers down
upon her, he beholds in the chariot a lady veiled in white,
in whom, although transfigured, he instinctively recognizes
Beatrice (a personification of Heavenly Wisdom). In his

DIVINE COMEDY 175

surprise Dante impulsively turns toward Virgil, only to dis-
cover that he has vanished!

Beatrice comforts him, however, by promising to be his
guide hereafter, and gently reproaches him for the past
until he casts shamefaced glances at his feet. There, in
the stream (which serves as nature's mirror), he catches
a reflection of his utter loathsomeness, and becomes so
penitent, that Beatrice explains she purposely brought him
hither by the awful road he has travelled to induce him to
lead a changed life hereafter.

Canto XXXI. Beatrice then accuses him of yielding
to the world's deceitful pleasures after she left him, and
explains how he should, on the contrary, have striven to
be virtuous so as to rejoin her. When she finally forgives
him and bids him gaze into her face once more, he sees she
surpasses her former self in loveliness as greatly as on
earth she outshone all other women. Dante is so overcome
by a sense of his utter unworthiness that he falls down
unconscious, and on recovering his senses finds himself in
the stream, upheld by the hand of a njrmph (Matilda) , who
sweeps him along, "swift as a shuttle bounding o'er the
wave," while angels chant "Thou shalt wash me" and "I
shall be whiter than snow."

Freed from all haunting memories of past sins by Lethe 's
waters, Dante finally lands on the " blessed shore." There
Beatrice's haud-maidens welcome him, and beseech her to
complete her work by revealing her inner beauty to this
mortal, so he can portray it for mankind. But, although
Dante gazes at her in breathless admiration, words fail him
to render what he sees.

"O splendor!
O saered light eternal! who is he.
So pale with musing in Pierian shades.
Or with that fount so lavishly imbued.
Whose spirit should not fail him in the essay
To represent thee such as thou didst seem.
When under cope of the still-chiming heaven
Thou gavest to open air thy charms reveal'd?"

176 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

Canto XXXII. Dante is still quenching a "ten-years
thirst" by staring at his beloved, when her attendants ad-
monish him to desist. But, although he obediently turns
aside his eyes, like a man who has gazed too long at the
sun, he sees her image stamped on all he looks at. He and
Statins now hiunbly follow the glorious procession, which
enters a forest and circles gravely round a barren tree-
trunk, to which the chariot is tethered. Immediately the
dry branches burst into bud and leaf, and, soothed by
angelic music, Dante falls asleep, only to be favored by a
vision so startling, that on awakening he eagerly looks
around for Beatrice. The nymph who bore bim safely
through the waters then points her out, resting beneath
the mystic tree, and Beatrice, rousing too, bids Dante note
the fate of her chariot. The poet then sees an eagle (the
Empire), swoop down from heaven, tear the tree asunder,
and attack the Chariot (the Church), into which a fox
(heresy) has sprung as if in quest of prey. Although the
fox is soon routed by Beatrice, the eagle makes its nest in
the chariot, beneath which arises a seven-headed monster
(the seven capital sins), bearing on its back a giant, who
alternately caresses and chastises a whore.
. Canto XXXIII. The seven Virtues having chanted a
hymn, Beatrice motions to Statius and Dante to follow her,
asking the latter why he is so mute? Rejoining she best
knows what he needs, Dante receives from her lips an ex-
planation of what he has just seen, which he is bidden reveal
to mankind. Conversing thus, they reach the second stream,
of whose waters Beatrice bids her friend drink, and after
that renovating draught Dante realizes he has now been
made pure and "apt for mounting to the stars."

PABADISE

Introduction. The Paradise of Dante consists of nine
crystalline spheres of different sizes, the Moon, Mercury,
Venus, the Sun, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, the Fixed Stars, and
the Empyrean, enclosed one within the other, and revolved

DIVINE COMEDY 177

by the Angels, Archangels, Princedoms, Powers, Virtues,
Dominations, Thrones, Cherubim, and Seraphim. Beyond
these orbs, whose whirling motions cause "the music of
the spheres," lies a tenth circle, the real heaven (a Rose),
where "peace divine inhabits," and of which the Divine
Essence or Trinity forms the very core.

Canto I. Paradise opens with Dante's statement that
in heaven he was "witness of things, which to relate again,
surpasseth the power of him who comes from thence." He
therefore invokes the help of Apollo to describe that part
of the universe upon which is lavished the greatest share
of light. Then, while gazing up into Beatrice's eyes, Dante,
freed from earth's trammels, suddenly feels himself soar
upward, and is transferred with indescribable swiftness into
a totally different medium.

Canto II. Perceiving his bewilderment, Beatrice reas-
sures him in a motherly strain, and, gazing around him,
Dante realizes they have entered the translucent circle of
the moon (revolved by angels) . After warning his fellow-
men " the way I pass ne'er yet was run," Dante goes on to
relate what Beatrice teaches him in regard to the heavenly
spheres and spiritual evolution, and how she promises to
reveal to him "the truth thou lovest."

Canto III. In the pearl-hued atmosphere of the moon,
Dante beholds, "as through a glass, darkly," shadowy,
nun-like forms, and is told by Beatrice to communicate with
them. Addressing the form nearest him, Dante learns she
is Piccarda (sister of Forese), who was kidnapped by her
husband after she had taken the veil. Although she would
fain have kept her religious vows, Piccarda proved a faith-
ful wife, and declares she and her fellow-spirits are content
to remain in their appointed sphere until called higher by
the Almighty.

"She with those other spirits gently smiled;
Then answei^d with such gladness, that she aeem'd
With love's first flame to glow: 'Brother! our will
Is, in composure, settled hy the power
Of charity, who makes us will alone
What we possess, and nought heyond desire,' "

12

178 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

All her companions also wished to be brides of Christ, but
patiently did their duty, and, knowing that "in His will
is our tranquillity," they now spend all their time singing
"Ave Maria." When these nun-like forms vanish, Dante
gazes at Beatrice in hopes of learning more.

Canto IV. In reply to Dante's inquiring glance,
Beatrice explains that those compelled to sin against their
desire are ever held blameless in Heaven. Then, stating:

" Not seldom, brother, it hath chanced for men
To do what they had gladly left undone; "

she adds that "the will that wiUs not, still survives un-
quenched," and that by will power only St. Lawrence and
Mucins Seevola were enabled to brave fire. Then she makes
him see how truth alone can satisfy a mind athirst for
knowledge.

Canto V. Beatrice asserts that the most precious gift
bestowed upon mankind was freedom of will, and that
"knowledge comes of learning well retain 'd." She con-
cludes that when man makes a vow he offers his will in
sacrifice to God, and that for that reason no vow should be
thoughtlessly made, but all should be rigidly kept. Still,
she admits it is better to break a promise than, like Jephthah
and Agamemnon, to subscribe to a heinous crime, and states
that either Testament can serve as guide for Jews or
Christians. Again drawing Dante upward by the very
intensity of her gaze, she conveys him to the second circle,
the heaven of Mercury (revolved by Archangels). Here,
in an atmosphere as pellucid as water, Dante perceives
thousands of angels, coming toward him, singing "Lo! one
arrived to multiply our loves ! ' ' These spirits assure Dante
he was born in a happy hour, since he is allowed, ere the
"close of fleshly warfare," to view the glories of heaven, —
and express a desire to share their lights with him. So
Dante questions the spirit nearest him, which immediately
glows with loving eagerness to serve him, until it becomes
a dazzling point of light.

Canto VI. This spirit announces he is Justinian, chosen

DIVINE COMEDY 179

to clear "from vain excess the encumbered laws," five
hundred years after the Christian era began, and that it
was in order to devote all his time to this task that he con-
signed the military power to Belisarius. He proceeds to
give Dante a resume of Roman history, from the kidnapping
of the Sabines to his own day, laying stress on the triumphs
won by great generals. He also specially mentions the
hour "When Heaven was minded that o'er all the world his
own deep cahn should brood," the troublous days of the
empire, and the feud of the Guelfs and GhibelUnes, the
two principal political factions of Dante's time. Next he
explains that Mercury is inhabited by "good spirits whose
mortal lives were busied to that end that honor and renown
might wait on them," and quotes in particular Raymond
Berenger, whose four daughters became queens.

Canto VII. After this speech Justinian vanishes with
his angelic companions, and Dante, duly encouraged, in-
quires of Beatrice how "just revenge could be with justice
punished?" She informs him that, as in Adam all die
through the power of sin, all can by faith live again
through Christ, thanks to God's goodness.

Canto VIII. Although unaware of the fact, Dante,
whose eyes have been fixed on Beatrice, has during her
exposition been wafted up to the third heaven, that of
Venus (revolved by Princedoms). In the planet of love
— ^where Beatrice glows with increased beauty — are in-
numerable souls "imperfect through excess of love," which
are grouped in constantly revolving circles. All at once
one of these luminous spirits approaches Dante, and, after
expressing great readiness to serve him, introduces him-
self as Charles Martel, King of Hungary, brother of
Robert of Naples. Thirsting for information, Dante in-
quires of him "how bitter can spring when sweet is sown?"
In a lengthy disquisition in reply, this spirit mentions
how children often differ from their parents, quotes Esau
and Jacob as marked examples thereof, and adds that
nature, guided by Providence, produces' at wiU a Solon,
Xerxes, Melchisedec, or Daedalus.

180 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

Ccmto IX. The next spirit with whom Beatrice con-
verses is the fair Cunizza, who like the Magdalen "loved
much," and therefor obtained pardon for her sins. Before
vanishing, she foretells coming political events, and in-
troduces the Provengal bard Folco, whose poems on love
were to be republished after five hundred years of oblivion.
After relating his life, this poet informs Dante the harlot
Rahab was admitted to this heaven in reward for saving
Joshua's spies. This spirit concludes his interview by
censuring the present papal policy, declaring it far too
worldly, avaricious, and time-serving to find favor in
heaven.

Ganio X. Drawn upward this time by the attraction of
the sun, Dante finds himself in a dazzling sphere (revolved
by Powers), where he and Beatrice behold consecutive mov-
ing wreaths, each composed of twelve blessed spirits who
while on earth were noted as teachers of divinity and
philosophy. One of these singing, revolving wreaths en-
compasses our travellers, until one of its members, St.
Thomas Aquinas, ceases his ineffable song long enough to
present his companions and explain their titles to immortal
glory.

Canto XI. St. Thomas Aquinas, in his conversation
with Dante, relates the life of St. Francis of Assisi, dwell-
ing particularly upon his noble character, and describiag
how, after becoming wedded to Poverty, he founded the
order of the Franciscans, received the stigmata, and died
in odor of sanctity, leaving worthy disciples and emulators,
such as St. DoTninio, to continue and further the good work
he had begun. He adds that many of the saint's followers
are represented in the innumerable glowing wreaths which
people the heaven of the Sun.

Canto Xll. Still encompassed by one rainbow circle
after another, Dante is told by St. Buonaventura of Dom-
inic's inestimable services to mankind, and hears about his
fervent zeal and deep faith.

Canto XIII. While Dante and Beatrice gaze with awe
and admiration upon the circles of light which revolve

DIVINE COMEDY 181

through all the signs of the zodiac, St. Thomas Aquinas
solves sundry of Dante 's doubts, and cautions him never to
accede to any proposition without having duly weighed it.

" Let not the people be too swift to judge;
As one who reckons on the blades in field.
Or e'er the crop be ripe. For I have seen
The thorn frown rudely all the winter long.
And after bear the rose upon its top;
And bark, that all her way across the sea
Ean straight and speedy, perish at the last
E'en in the haven's mouth."

Canto XIV. Proceeding from circle to circle, Dante
and Beatrice reach the innermost ring, where the latter
bids Solomon solve Dante's doubts by describing the ap-
pearance of the blest after the resurrection of the body.
In words almost as eloquent as those wherewith St. Gabriel
transmitted his message to Mary, Solomon complies.

" Long as the joy of Paradise shall last,
Our love shall shine around that raiment, bright
As fervent; fervent as, in vision, blest;
And that as far, in blessedness, exceeding.
As it hath grace, beyond its virtue, great.
Our shape, regarmented with glorious weeds
Of saintly flesh, must, being thus entire,
Show yet more gracious, 'nierefore shall increase
Whate'er, of light, gratuitous imparts
The Supreme Good; light, ministering aid.
The better to disclose his glory: whence.
The vision needs increasing, must increase
The fervor, which it kindles; and that too
The ray, that comes from it."

As he concludes his explanation, a chorus of spiritual
voices chant "Amen," and Solomon, directing Dante's
glance upward, shows him how the bright spirits of this
sphere group themselves in the form of a cross, — glowing
with light and pulsing with music, — ^whereon "Christ
beamed," a sight none ean hope to see save those who "talje
up their cross and follow him."

Cantos XV, XVI. In the midst of the rapture caused
by these sights and sounds, Dante is amazed to recognize.

182 THE BOOK OP THE EPIC

in one of the angels which continually shift places in the
glowing cross, his ancestor Cacciaguida, who assures him
Florence proved happy as long as its inhabitants led simple -
and virtuous lives, but rapidly degenerated and became
corrupt when covetousness, luxury, and pleasure took up
their abode within its walls.

Canto XVII. Encouraged by Beatrice, who stands at a
short distance to leave him more freedom, Dante begs his
great ancestor to reveal what is about to befall him, so that,
forewarned, he may most wisely meet his fate. In reply
Cacciaguida teUs him he will be exiled from Florence, and
compelled to associate with people who will turn against
him, only to rue this fact with shame later on. He adds
Dante will learn how bitter is the savor of other's bread
and how hard to climb another's stairs.

" Thou shalt leave each thing
Beloved most dearly: this is the first shaft
Shot from the bow of exile. Thou shalt prove
How salt the savor is of other's bread;
How hard the passage, to descend and climb
By other's stairs."

Then Cacciaguida goes on to state that Dante shall finally
find refuge in Lombardy, with Can Grande, and while there
will compose the poems depicting his memorable journey
down through sin to the lowest pit and upward through
repentance to the realm of bliss.

" For this, there only have been shown to thee,
Throughout these orbs, the mountain, and the deep.
Spirit, whom fame hath note of. For the mind
Of him, who hears, is loath to acquiesce
And fix its faith, unless the instance brought
Be palpable, and proof apparent urge."

Seeing Dante's dismay at this prediction, Beatrice com-
forts him by a smile, and, seeing he is again wrapped in
contemplation of her, warns him that "these eyes are not
thy only Paradise."

Canto XV III. Then Beatrice leads her charge into
the fifth heaven, that of Mars, revolved by Virtues and in-

DIVINE COMEDY 183

habited by transfigured martyrs, confessors, and holy war-
riors, such as Joshua, the Maccabees, Charlemagne, Orlando,
Godfrey of Bouillon, and other men of note. These worthies
form a part of the mystic cross, and each glows with
transcendent light as Beatrice points them out one after
another. Then Beatrice wafts her charge into the sixth
heaven, that of Jupiter (revolved by Dominations). Here
the spirits of rulers famous for justice, moving with kaleido-
scopic tints and rapidity, alternately form mystic letters
spelling ' ' Love righteousness ye that be judges of the earth, ' '
or settle silently into the shape of a gigantic eagle. This
sight proves so impressive that Dante sinks to his knees,
fervently praying justice may indeed reign on earth as in
heaven.

Canto XIX. To his intense surprise Dante now hears
the mystic eagle proclaim in trumpet tones that justice and
pity shall be exacted, and that no man shall be saved with-
out them. He adds that eternal judgment is incompre-
hensible to mortal ken, that mere professions are vain, and
that many so-called Christian potentates (some of whom he
names) will present a sorry figure on Judgment Day.

Canto XX. After a period of silence, the same Eagle
(an emblem of the Empire) proceeds to exalt certain rulers,
especially those glorified spirits which form the pupil of
his eye (David), and his eyelids (Trajan, Hezekiah, Con-
stantine) . As he mentions their names they glow like price-
less rubies, and he explains that, although some of them
lived before Christ was made flesh, all have been redeemed
because Faith, Hope, and Charity are their sponsors.

"The three nymphs.
Whom at the right wheel thou beheld'st advancing,
Were sponsors for him, more than thousand years
Before baptizing. O how far removed.
Predestination! is thy root from such
As see not the First Cause entire: and ye,
O mortal men! be wary how ye judge:
For we, who see our Maker, know not yet
The number of the chosen; and esteem
Such scantiness of knowledge our delight:
For all our good is, in that primal good.
Concentrate; and God's will and ours are one."

184. THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

Canto XXI. Meantime Beatrice, who has grown more
and more beautiful as they rise, explains, when Dante again
gazes upon her, that she no longer dares smile, lest he be
consumed like Semele when she beheld Jove. The magnetic
power of her glance suffices again, however, to transfer him
to the seventh heaven, that of Saturn (revolved by Thrones) .
This sphere is the abiding place of contemplative and ab-
stinent hermits and monks. There our poet beholds a lad-
der, up whose steps silently ascend those whose lives were
spent in retirement and holy contemplation. Amazed by
all he sees, and conscious he no longer hears the music of
the spheres, Dante wonders until informed by one of the
spirits, coming down the steps to meet him, that at this
stage the heavenly music is too loud and intense for human
ears. Seeing his interlocutor suddenly become a whirling
wheel of light, Dante inquires what this may mean, only to
be told spirits obscured on earth by fleshly garments shine
brightly in heaven. The spirit then gives his name (St.
Peter Damian), vividly describes the place where he built
his hermitage, and declares many modem prelates have
sinned so grievously through lechery or avarice that they
are now detained in Inferno or Purgatory. As he speaks,
spirit after spirit flits down the stairs, each bound on some
errand of charity to the spheres below.

Canto XXII. Startled by a loud cry, Dante is reassured
by St. Damian 's statement that no harm can befall him in
heaven. Next Beatrice directs his attention to some descend-
ing spirits, the most radiant of which is St. Benedict, who
explains how blissful spirits often leave the heavenly abode
' ' to execute the counsel of the Highest. ' ' He adds that Dante
has been selected to warn mortals, none of whom will ever
be allowed to venture hither again. Then St. Benedict
describes his life on earth and inveighs against the cor-
ruption of the monks of Dante's time.

His speech ended, St. Benedict vanishes, and Beatrice
wafts Dante up the mystic stairs, through the constellation
of the Gemini, to the eighth heaven, that of the Fixed Stars
(revolved by the Cherubim). Declaring he is so near "the

DIVINE COMEDY 186

last salvation" that his eyes should be unclouded, Beatrice
removes the last veil from his sight, and bids him gaze down
at the spheres through which they have passed, and "see
how vast a world thou hast already put beneath thy feet."
Smiling at the smallness of the earth left behind him, Dante,
undazzled by the mild light of the moon or the glow of the
sun, gazes at the seven revolving spheres until all the
scheme of creation is "made apparent to him."

Canto XXIII. Beatrice, who is still standing beside
him, finally tears him away from his contemplation of
what is beneath him, and directs his glance aloft, where
he catches his first glimpse of Christ, escorted by his Mother
and by the Church triumphant. Too dazzled and awed at
first to grasp what he sees, Dante feels heart and mind ex-
pand, as he listens enraptured to sweeter music than was
ever made by the nine muses. Meantime the spirits escort-
ing Christ crown the Virgin with lilies, and all sing the
praises of the Queen of Heaven.*

Canto XXIV. Beatrice and Dante are now joined by
the spirit of St. Peter, who examines Dante on faith, re-
ceiving the famous reply: "Faith is the substance of the
thing we hope for, and evidence of those that are not seen. "
Not only does St. Peter approve Dante's definition, but he
discusses theological questions with him, leading him mean-
while further into this sphere.

Canto XXY. Presently a spirit approaches them which
is designated by Beatrice as St. James. After greettag St.
Peter and smiling upon Beatrice, St. James reveals he has
been sent hither by Christ to examine Dante upon hope,
whereupon our poet, lifting his eyes "to the hills," gains
courage enough to answer thus: "Hope is the certain ex-
pectation of future glory, which is the effect of grace divine
and merit precedent." St. James is so pleased with this
answer that he glows even more brightly, as St. John, "who
lay upon the breast of him, our Pelican," appeared, shining
so brightly that Dante, turning to ask Beatrice who he is,

*See the author's "Legends of the Virgin and Christ."

186 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

discovers he can no longer see her although she is close
beside him.

" I turn'd, but ah ! how trembled in my thought.
When, looking at my side again to see
Beatrice, I descried her not; although.
Not distant, on the happy coast she stood."

Canto XXVI. Dante now ascertains he has merely been
temporarily blinded by the excess of light which emanates
from St. John, who proceeds to examine him in regard to
Charity. His answers are greeted by the heavenly chorus
with the chant "Holy, holy, holy," in which Beatrice joins,
ere she clears the last mote away from Dante's eyes and
thus enables him to see more plainly than ever. Our poet
now perceives a fourth spirit, in whom he recognizes Adam,
father of mankind, who retells the story of Eden, adding
that, 4232 years after creation, Christ delivered him from
hell, and enabled him to view the changes which had taken
place in the fortunes of his descendants during that long
space of time.

Canto XXVII. After listening enraptured to the melody
of the heavenly choir chanting ' ' Glory be to the Father, to
the Son, and to the Holy Ghost," Dante gazes upon the
four worthies near him, who glow and shine like torches,
while ' ' silence reigns in heaven. ' ' Then St. Peter, changing
color, holds forth against covetousness, and expounds
the doctrine of apostolic succession. Because the early
popes died as martyrs, he considers it a disgrace that their
successors should be guilty of misgovemment. He adds
that the keys bestowed upon him should never figure on
banners used in waging unrighteous wars, and that his
effigy on the papal seal should never appear on worldly
documents.

Then Beatrice affords Dante a glimpse of the earth from
the Straits of Gibraltar to the Bosphorus, and, when this
vision ends, wafts him up into the ninth heaven, the Primum
Mobile, or spot whence all motion starts, although itself
remains immovable.

DIVINE COMEDY 187

Here is the goal, whence motion on his race
Starts: motionless the centre, and the rest
All moved around.

Canto XXVIII. From this point Dante watches the
universe spin around him, until "she who doth emparadise
my soul" draws aside the veil of mortality, and allows him
to perceive nine concentric spheres of multitudinous angels
constantly revolving around a dazzling point while singing
" Hosanna! " These are the heavenly host, the hierarchy
of angels, Seraphim, Cherubim, Thrones, Dominations, Vir-
tues, Powers, Princedoms, Archangels, and Angels, in charge
of the various circles which compose Dante's Paradise.

Canto XXIX. Able to read Dante's thoughts, Beatrice
explains some of the things he would fain know, and dis-
perses his doubts, cautioning him, if he would be blessed,
to rid himself of every atom of pride, since that caused
even angels to fall !

Canto XXX. Once more Dante's eyes are fixed upon
Beatrice, whose beauty far transcends his powers of de-
scription, and is by her conveyed into the next circle, the
Empyrean, or heaven of pure light, into which he is told
to plunge as into a river. Eagerly quaffing its ethereal
waters to satisfy his ardent thirst for knowledge, Dante
beholds the court of Heaven, and descries its myriads of
thrones, all occupied by redeemed spirits. These thrones
are grouped around a brilliant centre (God) so as to form
a dazzling jewelled rose.

Canto XXXI. Robed ia snowy white, the redeemed —
who form the petals of the Eternal Rose — are visited from
time to time by ruby sparks, which are the angels hovering
above them, who plunge like bees iato the heart of this
flower, their glowing faces, golden wings, and white robes
adding charms to the scene. After gazing for some time
at this sight in speechless wonder, Dante, turning to ques-
tion Beatrice, discovers she is no longer beside him! At
the same time a being robed in glory near him bids him
look up at the third row of thrones from the centre, and

188 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

there behold her in her appointed seat. Eagerly glancing
in the direction indicated, Dante perceives Beatrice, who,
when he invokes her, smiles radiantly down upon him, ere
she again turns her face to the eternal fountain of light.

" So I my suit preferr'd;
And she, so distant, as appear'd, look'd down,
And smiled; then towards the eternal fountain tum'd."

Meanwhile the spirit informs Dante he has been sent
by Beatrice to help him end his journey safely, for he is
St. Bernard, who so longed to behold the Virgin's coun-
tenance that that boon was vouchsafed him. Knowing
Dante would fain see her too, he bids him find, among the
most brilliant lights in the Mystic Eose, the Virgin Mary,
Queen of Heaven.

Canto XXXII. Because the dazzled Dante cannot im-
mediately locate her, St. Bernard points her out, with Eve,
Eachel, Beatrice, Sarah, Judith, Rebecca, and Ruth sitting
at her feet, and John the Baptist, St. Augustine, St.
Francis, and St. Benedict standing close behind her. He
also explains that those who believed in "Christ who was
to come" are in one part of the rose, while those who
"looked to Christ already come" are in another, but that
all here are spirits duly assoiled, and adds that, although
occupying different ranks, these spirits are perfectly satis-
fied with the places awarded to them. Told now to look
up at the face most closely resembling Christ's Dante dis-
covers it is that of St. Gabriel, angel of the annunciation,
and he descries further on St. Peter, Moses, and St. Anna,
as well as Santa Lucia who induced Beatrice to send for
him.

Canto XXXIII. This done, St. Bernard fervently prays
the Virgin, who not only ' ' gives succor to him who asketh
it, but oftentimes f orerunneth of its own accord the asking, ' '
to allow Dante one glimpse of Divine Majesty. Seeing
this prayer is graciously received, St. Bernard bids Dante
look up. Thanks to his recently purified vision, our jwet
has a glimpse of the Triune Divinity, — compounded of

THE ORLANDOS 189

love, — ^which so transcends all hvunan expression that he
declares "what he saw was not for words to speak."

He concludes his grand poem, however, by assuring us
that, although dazed by what he had seen, his

" will roU'd onward, like a wheel
In even motion, by the love impell'd.
That moves the sun in heaven and all the stars."

THE ORLANDOS

Roland, nephew of Charlemagne, hero of the Song of
Boland and of an endless succession of metrical romances,
was as popular a character in Italian literature as in the
French. The Italians felt a proprietary interest in Charle-
magne because he had been crowned emperor of the West
in Rome in the year 800, and also because he had taken the
part of the pope against the Lombards. Even the names of
his twelve great peers were household words in Italy, so
tales about Roland — ^who is known there as Orlando — ^were
sure to find ready hearers.

The adventures of Roland, therefore, naturally became
the theme of Italian epics, some of which are of considerable
length and of great importance, owing principally to their
exquisite versification and diction. Pulci and Boiardo both
undertook to depict Boland as a prey to the tender passion
in epics entitled Orlando Innamorato, while Ariosto, the
most accomplished and musical poet of the three, spent
more than ten years of his life composing Orlando Furioso
(1516), wherein he depicts this famous hero driven insane
by his passion for an Oriental princess.

Assuming that his auditors are familiar with the char-
acters of Boiardo 's unfinished epic, Ariosto, picking up the
thread of the narrative at the point where his predecessor
dropped it, continues the story in the same vein. It there-
fore becomes imperative to know the main trend of
Boiardo 's epic.

It opens with a lengthy description of a tournament
3,t the court of Charlemagne, whither knights from aU

190 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

parts of the globe hasten to distinguish themselves in the
lists. Chief among these foreign guests are Argalio and
Angelica, son and daughter of the king of Cathay, with
their escort of four huge giants. The prince is, moreover,
fortunate possessor of a magic lance, one touch of which
suffices to unhorse any opponent, while the princess, by
means of an enchanted ring, can detect and frustrate any
spell, or become invisible by putting it in her mouth. On
arriving at Charlemagne's court, Argalio stipulates that all
the knights he defeats shall belong to his sister, whom in
return he offers as prize to any knight able to' unhorse him.

Such is the transcendent beauty of Angelica that
Argalio is instantly challenged by Astolfo, who is defeated,
and then by Ferrau, who, although defeated in the first
onset, proves victor in the second, simply because he acci-
dentally seizes the magic lance and directs it against its
owner! Since the laws of the tournament award him the
prize, Angelica, seeing she cannot otherwise escape, rides
hastily away and conceals herself in the forest of Arden.
She is, however, pursued thither by many knights who have
been captivated by her beauty, among whom are Rinaldo
(Renaud de Montauban) and Orlando, who were proposing
to challenge her brother next. In the precincts of the forest
where Angelica takes refuge are two magic fountains, one
whose waters instantly transform love into hate, while the
other induces any partaker to love the next person seen.

Prowling around this forest, Rinaldo unsuspectingly
quaffs the water which turns love to hate, so he immediately
ceases his quest and falls asleep. Meantime Angelica, drink-
ing from the other fountain and coming upon the sleeper,
falls madly in love with him and watches for his awaken-
ing. But, still under the influence of the magic waters he
has imbibed, Rinaldo rides away without heeding her timid
wooing, and leaves her to mourn until she too falls asleep.

Orlando, coming up by chance, is gazing in admiration
upon this sleeping princes, when Perrau rides up to claim
her as his prize. These knights are fighting for her pos-
session when the clash of their weapons awakens Angelica.

THE ORLANDOS 191

Terrified she retreats into the thicket, and, thrusting her
ring into her mouth, becomes invisible! Meantime the
knights continue their duel until a messenger summons
Ferrau to hasten to Spain, where war has broken out.

Angelica, unable to forget Rinaldo since she has par-
taken of the waters of love, now induces the magician Mal-
gigi to entice her beloved to an island over which she reigns,
where she vainly tries to win his affections and to detain
him by her side. StiU under the influence of the waters of
hate, Rinaldo escapes, only to land in a gloomy country,
where he is plunged into a loathsome den. There a monster
is about to devour him, when Angelica comes to- his rescue.
But, even though she saves his life, he ungratefully refuses
to return her affection, and abruptly leaves her to encounter
other untoward adventures. Meantime Orlando, still search-
ing for Angelica, encounters a sorceress who gives him a
magic draught which causes him to forget the past, and
detains him a captive in the island of Dragontine.

Meanwhile the many knights enamoured with Angelica
have gone to besiege her father's capital, but wMle they
are thus employed she escapes from the city — ^thanks to her
magic ring — and goes to deliver Orlando. In return, he
pledges himself to drive the besiegers away and save her
father's capital, and on the way thither encounters Rinaldo,
with whom, not knowing who he is, he fights two days,
so equally are they matched in strength and skill. The
moment comes, however, when Orlando is on the point of
slaying Rinaldo, and refrains only because Angelica op-
portunely reveals his opponent's name.

Still urged by Angelica, Orlando next hastens off to
destroy the magic island and free its captives, who hurry
back to France while their rescuer journeys to Cathay.
There Angelica pretends she has fallen in love with him,
and accompanies him when he returns to France under pre-
text of becoming a Christian. Their way again lies through
the forest of Arden, where this time Angelica drinks from
the fountain of hatred. All her former love for Rinaldo
therefore vanishes, and, as the latter has at the same time

192 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

partaken of the water of love, their parts are reversed, for
it is he who now pursues Angelica whom he previously
loathed. His attentions so incense Orlando that he begins
a fight, which Charlemagne checks, declaring that Angelica
— who is placed in charge of Duke Namus — shall be awarded
to the warrior who distinguishes himself most in the coming
war.

In the course of this campaign these two knights meet
with many adventures, and are accompanied by Bradamant
— ^Rinaldo's sister — ^who manfully fights by their side.
Among their opponents the most formidable are Rogero and
the pagan Rodomont, whose boastful language has given
rise to the term rodomontade. During one of their en-
counters, Rogero discovers that his antagonist is Bradamant
— a woman — and falls desperately in love with her.

It is at this point that Boiardo's poem ends ; and Ariosto,
adopting his characters, immediately begins weaving three
principal strands of narrative, — one relating to the wars
of Charlemagne, another to Orlando's madness, and the
third to the love of Rogero and Bradamant, — Rogero, an
ancestor of the Ferrara family (Ariosto 's patrons), being
the real hero of his poem.

Not satisfied at being placed under the care of Duke
Namus of Bavaria, Angelica escapes from his guardianship,
only to be pursued by the unwelcome attentions of Rinaldo
and Ferrau. WhUe these two fight for her possession, the
lady, who spends her time fleeing from unwelcome suitors,
escapes, only to fall into the hands of Sacripant, King of
Circassia, another admirer, who bears her off in triumph.
They meet a knight in white armor (Bradamant in quest of
Rogero), ere they are overtaken by Rinaldo. A new duel
now ensues, this time between Rinaldo and Sacripant, dur-
ing which Angelica runs away and seeks refuge with a her-
mit-magician, who then informs the combatants Angelica
has been carried off to Paris by Orlando. Hearing this,
the rivals cease fighting and join forces to rescue the lady,
but, when they arrive in Paris, Charlemagne despatches
Rinaldo to England and Scotland, where, among other mar-

THE ORLANDOS 193

vellous adventures, is told the lengthy and fantastic yet
beautiful story of Ginevra.

It seems that, although loved by the Duke of Albany,
this lady prefers the knight Ariolant. She thereby so en-
rages her noble suitor that he finally bribes her maid to
personate her and admit him by night to her chamber by
means of a rope ladder. With fiendish cunning he has
advised Ariolant to watch Ginevra, so this true lover, wit-
nessing what he considers irrefutable proof of his lady-
love's unehastity, departs in despair to commit suicide.
His brother, deeming him already dead, denounces Ginevra,
who, brought before the judges, is sentenced to die unless
some champion will vindicate her honor. Having mean-
time discovered the truth, Rinaldo clears the lady by
winning a brilliant victory, and leaves only after she is
safely married to the man she loves, who after all has not
taken his life.

The poet now picks up another thread and shows us
Bradamant seeking Rogero, and discovering, by means of
Angelica's magic ring, that he is captive of a magician.
After a narrow escape, and a vision of the feats her descend-
ants will perform, Bradamant helps Rogero to escape. Soon
after, this reckless man vaults upon a hippogriff which
lands him on an island, where an enchantress changes her
visitors into beasts, stones, trees, etc. Instead of becoming
one of her permanent victims, Rogero, warned by the
myrtle to which he ties his steed, prevails upon her to re-
lease her captives, and after many adventures is borne by
the same hippogriff to the island of Ebuda, where a maiden
is daily sacrificed to a cannibal Ore. "When Rogero dis-
covers that the present victim is Angelica, he promptly
delivers her and conveys her to Brittany.

Meantime Orlando, mad with love, is vainly seeking
Angelica. He too visits Ebuda — ^but too late to meet her
there — and delivers another maiden. Then he returns to
France to find Charlemagne so sorely pressed by foes, that
he has implored St. Michael to interfere in his behalf. This
archangel, cleverly enlisting the services of Silence and Dis-
13

194 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

cord, brings back Rinaldo and other knights, who drive
away the disintegrating pagan force after sundry bloody
encounters. After one of these, Angelica finds a wounded
man, whom she nurses back to health, and marries after a
romantic courtship in the course of which they carve their
names on many a tree.

Still seeking Angelica, Orlando in due time discovers
these names, and on learning Angelica is married becomes
violently insane. Discarding his armor, — ^which another
knight piously collects and hangs on a tree with an inscrip-
tion warning no one to venture to touch it, — Orlando roams
hither and thither, performing countless feats of valor, and
even swimming across the Strait of Gibraltar to seek ad-
ventures in Africa since he cannot get enough in Europe.
In the course of his wanderings, Orlando (as well as sundry
other characters in the poem) is favored by an apparition
of Fata Morgana, the water-fairy, who vainly tries to lure
him away from his allegiance to his lady-love by offering
him untold treasures.

Every once in a while the poem harks back to Rogero,
who, having again fallen into a magician's hands, prowls
through the labyrinthine rooms of his castle, seeking Brada-
mant, whom he imagines calling to him for help. Mean-
time the lady whom he is thus seeking is safe at Marseilles,
but, hearing at last of her lover's plight, she too visits the
magic castle, and would have been decoyed into its dun-
geons had not Astolfo appeared with a magic horn, whose
first blast makes the castle vanish into thin air ! Thus freed,
the magician's prisoners gaze around them in wonder, and
Rogero and Bradamant embrace with rapture, planning to
marry as soon as Rogero has been baptized.

But, on their way to Vallombroso where this sacrament
is to take place, the lovers meet with other adventures and
are again separated. Under escort of Astolfo, Bradamant
sadly returns home, where her mother decrees she shall re-
main until Rogero can come and get her. Meantime Rogero
has again joined the Saracens, just as Discord has succeeded
in kindling a quarrel between Rodomont and Mandriear,

THE ORLANDOS 195

who both admire the same lady. They are about to fight for
her favor, when the umpire of the lists pertinently suggests
the lady be allowed to express her preference ! She frankly
does so, and Eodomont, rejected, departs in high dudgeon.
In this unhappy frame of mind he attacks everybody he
meets, and after many victories is defeated in a battle with
the Christians. During this last encounter Eogero is too
grievously wounded to be able to join Bradamant, who,
hearing a fair lady is nursing her lover, is consumed by
jealou^. She therefore — ^notwithstanding her mother's de-
cree— sets out in the garb of a knight to challenge her
recreant lover and defeat him by means of her magic
lance.

After unhorsing on the way all those who venture to
tilt with her, Bradamant meets Eogero, who, recognizing
her in the midst of their duel, flatly refuses to continue the
fight, and implores her to accompany him into a neighboring
forest, where he promises to explain all to her satisfaction.
They are, however, followed thither by the maiden who has
nursed Eogero, who, jealous in her turn, now attacks Brada-
mant. Eogero, infuriated by Bradamant 's imminent peril,
is about to slay his nurse remorselessly, when an enchanter's
voice proclaims she is his sister, stolen in infancy! All
excuse for mutual jealousy being thus removed, the two
women agree to join forces and fight in behalf of Charle-
magne until Eogero can discharge his obligations to the
Saracens, receive baptism, and join the Christian raiiks.

Meantime Astolf o has ridden off on the hippogriff to the
earthly paradise, where he has interviews with sundry saints
and apostles, and whence St. John conveys him up to the
moon. In that appropriate region the apostle explains that
Orlando's insanity is due to the fact he loves an infidel!
He further points out where the hero's stray wits are stored,
and directs Astolfo how to catch them in a vial and restore
them to their rightful owner. Then, before conveying
Astolfo back to earth, St. John vouchsafes him a glimpse
of the Fates, wearing the web of Destiny, which they cast

196 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

into the stream of Oblivion, whence only a few shreds are
rescued by poets !

On returning from this eventful trip to the moon, Astolf o
joins the Saracens. When they finally capture the mad
Orlando, he produces his vial, and, making his friend inhale
its contents, restores him to his senses. His mad passion
for Angelica being now a thing of the past, Orlando con-
centrates all his efforts to conquer the Saracens and triumphs
in many a fight.

Meantime Rogero, on his way to join Bradamant, has
been shipwrecked on an island, where a hermit converts him
to the Christian faith. While he is here, Orlando and
Rinaldo arrive with their sorely wounded friend, Oliver,
whom they entrust to the hermit's care. Not only is Orlando
sane once more, but Rinaldo, having drunk the waters of
the contrary fountain, no longer loves Angelica, and will-
ingly promises the hand of his sister Bradamant to the new
convert. But, when brother and prospective bridegroom
reach court, they learn Charlemagne has promised Brada-
mant to a Greek prince, to whom the lady has signified that
ere he wins her he must fight a duel with her. On hearing
that the Greek prince is at present besieging Belgrade,
Rogero hastens thither, and performs wonders before he
falls into the enemy's hands. But the Greek prince has
been so impressed by Rogero 's prowess that he promises
Viim freedom if he will only personate him in the dreaded
duel with Bradamant. Rogero immediately consents to
fight in the prince's armor, and defeats Bradamant, whom
Charlemagne thereupon awards to the Greek prince.

In despair at having forfeited his beloved, Rogero rides
off to die of grief, but the Greek prince, riding after him to
thank him, not only discovers the cacise of Rc^ero's sorrow,
but generously relinquishes all claim to Bfadamant and
volunteera to witness her marriage to Rogero. The courage
shown by the bridegroom while at Belgrade has meantime
so impressed the Bulgarians, that an embassy arrives to
beg him to mount their throne. But before Rogero can

GERUSALEMME LIBERATA 197

assume the Bulgarian crown he is forced to conquer and slay
the boastful Rodomont, who envies his exalted position.

Many other characters appear in this poem, complicating
the plot until it seems hopelessly involved to most modern
readers, but, owing to the many romantic situations, to the
picturesque verse, and to the unflagging liveliness of style,
this epic is still popular in Italy. It has besides given rise
to endless imitations, not only in Italian but in many other
languages. It forms part of the great Charlemagne Cycle,
of which the last epic is Rieciardetto, by Portiguerra, a
priest who wagered he too could compose a string of ad-
ventures like those invented by Ariosto. He won his wager
by adopting the characters already made famous by Boiardo
and Ariosto, and selected as his hero a younger brother of
Rinaldo mentioned by his predecessors.

GERUSALEMME LIBERATA, OR JERUSALEM
DELIVERED

Torquato Tasso, one of the three great Italian poets, was
bom at Sorrento in 1544, and, after receiving his education
in various Italian cities, conceived, while at the University
of Padua, the idea of writing an epic poem, using an
episode in the First Crusade as his theme. In 1572 Tasso
became attached to the court of Perrara, where the duke
and his two sisters delighted in his verses, admired his pas-
toral Aminta, and urged him to finish his projected epic.

During his sojourn at this court Tasso fell in love with
Eleonora, sister of the duke, to whom he read the various
parts of his epic as he completed them, and for whose sake
he lingered at Perrara, refusing offers of preferment at
Paris and at Florence. Although he completed his epic in
1575, he did not immediately publish it, but sent copies to
Rome and Padua for criticism. The learned men to whom
he submitted his poem criticised it so freely that the poet's
sensitive nature was greatly injured thereby. Almost at
the same time the duke discovered the poet's passion for
his sister. Furious to think Tasso should have raised his

198 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

eyes to a princess, yet afraid he should carry his talents
elsewhere, the duke, pretending to deem him insane, placed
him under close surveillance. While Tasso was thus a
prisoner, sundry false accusations were brought against
him and his poem was published without his consent.

Although Tasso contrived several times to escape from
Ferrara, he invariably came back there, hoping to be recon-
ciled to the duke. It was only in 1586 that he left this
place for good and betook himself to Rome and Naples,
where he was forced to live on charity. Just as he was
about to be publicly crowned in Rome for his epic, he
died there, at the age of fifty-two (1595).

The epic "Jerusalem Delivered" contains an account
of the Crusade of 1099 and extends over a period of forty
days. It is divided into twenty cantos, written in otfcava
rima, or eight-rhymed stanzas, and, owing to its rhythmic
perfection, is still sung by Italian bards to popular
audiences.

Canto I. After stating exactly what task he proposes to
perform in his poem, the poet describes how the Eternal
Father, sitting on His heavenly throne, gazes down upon
the plain of Tortosa, where the Crusaders are assembled.
Six years have elapsed since they set out from Europe,
during which time they have succeeded in taking Nicaea
and Antioch, cities now left in charge of influential
Crusaders. But Godfrey of Bouillon is pushing on with
the bulk of the army, because he is anxious to wrest
Jerusalem from the hands of the infidels and restore it to
the worship of the true God. While he is camping on this
plain, God sends Gabriel to visit him in sleep and inspire
him with a desire to assemble a council, where, by a ringing
speech, he will rouse the Christians to immediate action.

On awakening from this vision, Godfrey loses no time
in convening such an assembly, and there eloquently urges
the Christians to fight, declaring their efforts have failed
hitherto mainly because they have lacked purpose and
unity. Hearing this, Peter the Hermit suggests the Cru-
saders should select one chief, whose orders they will obey,

GERUSALEMME LIBERATA 199

and thereupon the warriors present unanimously elect God-
frey of Bouillon as leader. Having secured this exalted
post, Godfrey reviews his force, thus giving the poet an
occasion to enumerate the leaders of the different corps, or
armies, and explain from what countries they come.
Amongst other resounding names, the poet specially men-
tions Edward and his fair bride Gildippe, who, unwilling
to be parted from her spouse, has donned a man's armor
and followed him to the Crusade. Among the bravest
fighters there, he also quotes Tancred, who, however, seems
listless, and has accomplished no deed of valor since he
beheld near a fountain and fell in love with Glorinda, a
fair Amazon.

To the same warbling of fresh waters drew,
Arm'd, but unhelm'd and unforeseen, a maid;
She was a pagan, and came thither too
To quench her thirst beneath the pleasant shade;
Her beautiful fair aspect, thus display'd.
He sees; admires; and, touch'd to transport, glows
With passion rushing to its fountain head,
The heart; 'tis strange how quick the feeling grows;
Scarce born, its power in him no cool calm medium knows.

Another hero is Rinaldo (the same as the French Renaud
de Montauban), who, although but a boy, escaped from
his foster mother. Queen Mathilda, to go and fight for the
deliverance of the Holy Sepulchre. His review completed,
Godfrey of Bouillon orders his force to march on toward
Jerusalem, whence he wishes to oust the Sultan Aladine
(Saladin), who at present is sorely taxing the Christians
to obtain funds enough to make war against the advancing
Crusaders.

Canto II. Advised by the sorcerer Ismeno, Aladine
steals the image of the Virgin from the Christian temple,
and sets it up in his mosque, where he resorts to all manner
of spells and incantations to destroy her power. During
the night, however, the Virgin's image disappears from
the mosque and cannot be found, although Aladine offers
great rewards for its restoration. Finally, he decrees that,
unless the perpetrator of the theft denounces himself, he

200 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

will slay all tlie Christians in the town. He is about to
execute this cruel threat when Sophronia, a Christian maid,
suddenly decides to sacrifice herself to save her co-religion-
ists. She therefore appears before Aladine, declaring she
stole the image from the temple, whereupon the sultan in
anger orders her bound to the stake and burned alive.

Doom'd in tormenting fire to die, they lay
Hands on the maid; her arms with rough cords twining,
Eudely her mantle chaste they tear away,
And the white veil that o'er her droop'd declining:
This she endured in silence unrepining,
Yet her firm breast some virgin tremors shook;
And her warm cheek, Aurora's late outshining.
Waned into whiteness, and a color took,
Like that of the pale rose or lily of the brook.

Scarcely has Sophronia been fastened there, and while
she is praying for God's aid to endure martyrdom without
flinching, Olindo, a young Christian, deeming it impos-
sible to allow a girl to sacrifice her life, rushes forward,
declaring he alone committed the crime, but that the
maiden, out of love for him, has assumed his guilt to save
his life. Only then does he discover that the maiden tied
to the stake is the very one he loves, but who hitherto has
received his advances coldly ! On hearing the youth accuse
himself of having stolen the image, Aladine questions the
maiden, who denies it, insisting she alone is to blame. There-
upon the sultan decrees both shall perish in the flames,
and orders them tied to the stake back to back. It is in
this position, and while in imminent peril of death, that
the young man deplores the fact he is to die beside the
one he hoped to marry and with whom he expected to spend
a long and happy life. The executioners are about to set
fire to the pyre where these generous young lovers are to
end their days, when a young knight steps forward loudly
proclaiming none of the Christians are to blame for
the disappearance of the image, since Allah himself re-
moved it from the temple because he considered it desecra-
tion to have such an image within its walls. This young
knight turns out to be the warrior maid Clorinda, who

GERUSALEMME LIBERATA 201

not only convinces Aladine that the young people are
guiltless, but bribes him to release them, in exchange for
her services in the coming war. Touched by each other's
devotion, the young couple marry as soon as released, and,
instead of dying, live together as husband and wife.

Restored to life and liberty, how blest.
How truly blest was young Olindo's fate!
For sweet Sophronia's blushes might attest,
That Love at length has touch'd her delicate
And generous bosom; from the stake in state
They to the altar pass; severely tried.
In doom and love already made his mate,
She now objects not to become his bride.
And grateful live with him who would for her have died.

Meanwhile two ambassadors have come from Egypt to
visit Godfrey in his camp, and try iSrst by persuasions and
then by threats to dissuade him from his projected attack
upon Jerusalem. In spite of aU Alethes and Argantes can
say, Godfrey insists upon carrying out his purpose, and,
after dismissing these ambassadors with a haughty speech,
marches on with his host.

" Know, then, that we have borne all this distress
By land and sea, — ^war, want, reverses — all!
To the sole end that we might gain access
To sacred Salem's venerable wall;
That we might free the Faithful from their thrall.
And win from God His blessing and reward:
From this no threats our spirit can appal,
For this no terms will be esteem'd too hard —

Life, honors, kingdoms lost, or dignity debarr'd."

Canto III. When they come within sight of Jerusalem,
the Crusaders, overjoyed, hail the Holy City with cries of
rapture, and, falling on their knees, swear to deliver it
from the hands of the infidels. Seeing them advance, the
pagans make hasty preparations to oppose them, and
Clorinda, at the head of a small force, volunteers to make
a sortie and boldly attacks the vanguard of the Crusaders.

From the topmost tier of Jerusalem's ramparts, the

THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

Sultan Aladine watches their sortie, having beside him
Erminia, daughter of the late king of Antioch, whom the
Crusaders have sent on to Jerusalem, because they do not
care to detain her a prisoner. During her sojourn in her
father's town, Erminia has learned to know by sight all
the Crusaders, and during her brief captivity she has fallen
in love with Tancred, who was detailed to guard her. She
can therefore give the Sultan Aladine all the information
he wishes, and acts as cicerone while the battle is going
on. From this point of vantage the sultan and princess
watch Clorinda and Tancred meet, and behold how, after
a lively encounter, Tancred strikes off the helmet of his
opponent, whose sex is revealed by the streaming of her
long golden hair. At sight of the wonderful maiden with
whom he has fallen in love, Tancred refuses to continue
the fight, although Clorinda urges him to strike. Undaunted
by the fact that she is his foe, Tancred not only refuses to
strike, but immediately begins to sue the beautiful maiden,
who refuses to listen to him, and is soon swept away by
Saracen forces, which intervene between her and Tancred.

A battle now rages, in the course of which various
knights perform great deeds, but, although Godfrey proves
victor on this occasion, he loses Dudon, chief of his Ad-
venturous Band and one of the bravest warriors in his
army. While giving her explanations to Aladine in regard
to the fight waged beneath their eyes, Erminia carefully
explains she feels deadly hatred for Tancred, although the
truth is she loves him dearly and is greatly relieved to
see him escape from the fray uninjured.

Many people having died in the course of this action,
a truce is agreed upon so that both sides may bury their
dead, and so, many funerals are celebrated with all due
pomp and ceremony. Next the crusading force decides
that siege-engines and towers will be necessary to enable
them to scale the high walls of Jerusalem. They therefore
send out a force of woodsmen to hew the trees which are
to serve for the construction of the required towers.

GERUSALEMME LIBERATA 203

The duke, when thus his piety had paid
The fun'ral rites, and shed his duteous tears.
Sent all his skill'd mechanics to invade
The forest, guarded by a thousand spears;
Veil'd by low hills it stood, the growth of years,—
A Syrian shepherd pointed out the vale.
And thither brought the camp-artificers
Ta fabricate the engines doom'd to scale
The City's sacred towers and turn her people pale.

Canto IV. The scene now changes to the infernal re-
gions, where Satan deems it time to frustrate the Christians'
aims, because it would ill-suit diabolical ends to have them
recover possession of Jerusalem. Not only does Satan
stimulate his hosts by reminding them of their forfeited
bliss, but he encourages them to thwart the Christians by
reminding them of the great deeds they have already done.
His eloquence is not expended in vain, for the fiends all
approve of his suggestions, and, when the council is over,
flit forth, intent upon fomenting dissension among the
leaders of the Crusade, and hindering their attempts in
every other way possible.

One demon in particular is to determine a wizard to
send his niece Armida to ensnare the Christians. This
enchantress, decked out with all the charms beauty and
toilet can bestow, soon appears in the Christian camp, where,
falling at Godfrey's feet, she proceeds to relate a tale of
fictitious wrongs, claiming to be heiress of the city of
Damascus, whence she has been ejected, and vowing if she
could only secure the aid of a few knights she would soon
recover her realm. In return for such aid as she im-
plores from the Christians, she promises to do homage to
them for her realm, and even pledges herself to receive
baptism. Her artful speeches, the flattery which she
lavishes upon Godfrey, and her languishing glances are all
calculated to persuade him to grant her request; but the
Crusader is so bent upon the capture of Jerusalem that
nothing can turn him aside from his purpose.

But, although Godfrey himself is proof against all
Armida 's blandishments, his knights are not, and among

204 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

those who succumb to the lady's charms is his own brothei*
Eustace, who begs Ms permission to take ten knights and
accompany the damsel to Damascus. Although Armida
professes great gratitude for this help, she entices many
other Crusaders to desert the camp, by casting languishing
glances at them and making each man whom she looks
upon believe she loves him only.

All arts th' enchantress practised to beguile
Some new admirer in her well-spread snare;
Nor used with all, nor always the same wile.
But shaped to every taste her grace and air:
Here cloister'd is her eye's dark pupil, there
In full voluptuous languishment is roll'd;
Now these her kindness, those her anger bear,
Spurr'd on or check'd by bearing frank or cold.
As she perceived her slave was scrupulous or bold.

Canto v. Not content with beguiling many knights,
Armida further foments a quarrel between Kinaldo and
Gemando, Prince of Norway, in regard to the command
of the Adventurous Band, which is now without a leader.
In the course of this quarrel, Einaldo is so sorely taunted
by his opponent that, although the Crusaders are pledged
not to fight each other, he challenges and slays Gemando.
Then, afraid to be called to trial and sentenced to death
for breaking the rules of the camp, Rinaldo flees to Egypt.

On perceiving how greatly his army is weakened by the
desertion of so many brave men, Godfrey is dismayed —
all the more so because he hears the Egyptian army is
coming to attack him, and because the supplies which he
expected have been cut off.

Canto VI. The Egyptian army boasts of no braver
warrior than Argantes, who sallies forth to challenge the
Christians, bidding Clorinda foUow him at a short distance,
and come to his rescue should it be necessary. Although
Argantes has summoned Godfrey to come forth and fight
him, it is Tancred who is chosen as champion for the
Christians, but as he draws near his opponent a glimpse
of the fair Clorinda 's face makes him forget everything
but her.

GERUSALEMME LIBEBATA 205

He noted not where the Circassian rear'd
His frightful face to the affronted skies,
But to the hill-top where his Love appear'd,
Turn'd, slack'ning his quick pace, his am'rous eyes.
Till he stood steadfast as a rock, all ice
Without, all glowing heat within; — the sight
To him was as the gates of Paradise;
And from his mind the mem'ry of the fight
Pass'd like a summer cloud, or dream at morning light.

One of the knights in his train, seeing he is not going
to fight, spurs forward and meets Argantes, by whom he
is defeated. On seeing this knight fall, TaJicred, suddenly
brought to his senses, starts forward to avenge him, and
combats with such fury that Argantes' armor fairly rings
with the blows which rain down upon him. Argantes,
however, is nearly as brave as Tanered, so the battle rages
until nightfall, when the heroes are separated by the heralds,
although both vow they wiU renew the struggle on the
morrow. But, when they have ceased fighting and both
discover they have serious wounds, their respective armies
decree a six-days' truce and pledge themselves to await
the result of the duel.

The wounded Argantes has returned to Jerusalem, where
Erminia uses her magic balsams to heal his wounds, secretly
wishing meanwhile that she might lavish her care upon
Tanered, whom she still loves. So ardent is her desire to
behold him, that she finally appropriates Clorinda's armor
and rides off to the Christian camp, sending a messenger
ahead to announce a lady is coming to heal Tanered if he
will give her a safe-conduct to his tent. Tanered imme-
diately sends word the lady wiU be welcome, but mean-
while the Christians, catching a glimpse of the waiting
Erminia, and mistaking her for Clorinda owing to her
armor, endeavor to capture her.

Canto VII. To escape from her pursuers, Erminia flees
into a trackless forest, where, after wandering some time,
she meets a shepherd, who gives her an asylum in his hut.
There she turns shepherdess, but does not forget Tanered,
whose name she carves in many a tree. Meantime the news

206 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

spreads through the camp that Clorinda has been seen
and is even now closely pursued by a troop of Christians.
Hearing this Tancred, disregarding his wounds, sets out
to find her. While wandering thus in the forest, weakened
by loss of blood, he is captured by Armida, the enchantress,
who detains him in a dungeon, where he eats his heart out
for shame because he will not be able to respond when the
trumpets sound for the renewal of his duel with Argantes.

The moment having come for this battle and the Cru-
saders' champion being absent, old Count Raymond volun-
teers to meet Argantes, and is about to get the better of
him, when an archer from the wall suddenly discharges a
shaft at him. Such treachery exasperates the Christians,
who, exclaiming the truce has been broken, precipitate
themselves upon their foes, and in the general battle which
ensues many deeds of valor are performed.

Canto VIII. During this battle a great storm arises,
and the Christians, who, notwithstanding their courage,
have been worsted, beat a retreat, finding on their return
to camp that one of their companions, defeated and mor-
tally wounded, has despatched a messenger to carry his
sword to Rinaldo. The Italian force thereupon accuses
Godfrey of having done away with Rinaldo, but he not
only succeeds in refuting such an accusation, but sentences
his chief detractor to death.

Canto IX. Sultan Solyman of Nieae, who has joined
Sultan Aladine of Jerusalem, now comes to attack the
Christians by night, assisted by many fiends, but the arch-
angel Michael warns the crusaders of what is coming and
enables them to get the better of their foes by bringing
back the troops which followed Armida to Damascus. In
this encounter a Christian knight slays a page of the sultan,
who, seeing this child dead, experiences such grief that,
after avenging his death, he wishes to withdraw temporarily
from the battle.

"Let Godfrey view once more, and smile to view
My second exile; — soon shall he again
See me in arms retum'd, to vex anew

GERUSALEMME LIBERATA 207

His haiinted peace and never stable reign:
Yield I do not; eternal my disdain
Shall be as are my wrongs; though fires consume
My dust, immortal shall my hate remain;
And aye my naked ghost fresh wrath assume,
Through life a foe most fierce, but fiercer from the tomb! "

Canto X. The sultan, after journeying part way back
to Egypt, pauses to rest, and is visited by a wizard, who
spirits him over the battle-field and back to Jerusalem in a
magic chariot. This pauses at a hidden cave, the entrance
to an underground passage, by which they secretly enter
the sultan's council chamber.

Ismeno shot the lock; and to the right
They climb'd a staircase, long untrod, to which
A feeble, glimm'ring, and malignant light
Stream'd from the ceiling through a window'd niche;
At length by corridors of loftier pitch
They sallied into day, and access had
To an illumined hall, large, round, and rich;
Where, sceptred, crown'd, and in dark purple clad.
Sad sat the pensive king amid his nobles sad.

Solyman, overhearing as he enters some of the nobles pro-
pose a disgraceful peace and the surrender of Jerusalem,
hotly opposes such a measure, and thus infuses new cour-
age into their breasts.

Canto XI. Meantime Godfrey of Bouillon, having
buried his dead, questions the knights who were lured
away by Armida, and they relate that, on arriving near
the Dead Sea, they were entertained at a sumptuous
banquet, where they were given a magic draught, which
transformed them for a time into sportive fishes. Armida,
having thus demonstrated her power over them, threatened
to use it to keep them prisoners forever unless they would
promise to abjure their faith. One alone yielded, but the
rest, delivered as prisoners to an emissary from Egypt,
were met and freed from their bonds by the brave Rinaldo,
who, instead of accompanying them back to camp, rode off
toward Antioch.

The Christians now prepare for their final assault, and,

208 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

advised by Peter the Hermit, walk in solemn procession
to the Mount of Olives, where, after singing hymns, all
devoutly receive Communion. Thus prepared for anything
that may betide, they set out on the morrow to scale the
city walls, rolling ahead of them their mighty engines of
war, by means of which they hope to seize the city.

Most of the Crusaders have laid aside their heavy armor
and assumed the light gear of foot-soldiers the better to
scale the walls, upon which Clorinda is posted, and whence
she shoots arrow after arrow at the assailants. Wounded
by one of the missiles flung from the wall, Godfrey seeks
his tent, where, the physician failing to extract the barb,
an angel brings a remedy from heaven which instantly
cures the wound.

Canto XII. After awhile, seeing she does not do as
much execution as she would like, Clorinda proposes to
Argantes that they steal out of the city by night, and by
chemical means set fire to the engines with which the
Christians are threatening to capture the city. Willingly
Argantes promises to accompany her in this perilous
venture, but her slave, hoping to dissuade her, now reveals
to her for the first time, the story of her birth, and informs
her she is the daughter of a Christian. He adds her dying
mother besought him to have her child baptized, a duty
he had failed to perform, although repeatedly warned by
visions to repair his neglect. But, although similar visions
have frequently haunted the dreams of Clorinda herself,
she persists in her undertaking to set fire to the war
machines.

She has no sooner done so, however, than the Christians,
aroused, set out in pursuit of her and of her companions.
Bravely covering their retreat so they can reenter the city
safely, Clorinda delays her own until the gates closed. But
with great presence of mind, the warrior-maid, who is
wearing black armor, mingles in the darkness with the
Crusaders. None of these suspects she does not belong to
their ranks, save Tanered, who follows her to a remote
place beneath the walls, where he challenges her to a deadly

GERUSALEMME LIBEBATA 209

fight, little divining who she is. The battle proves fierce,
and both combatants strike until Tancred runs his sword
through his opponent. Dying, Clorinda reveals her name
and faintly begs Tancred to baptize her before life leaves
her body.

"Friend! thou hast won; I J)ardon thee, and 0
Forgive thou me! I fear not for this clay.
But my dark soul — pray for it, and bestow
The sacred rite that laves all stains away: "
Like dying hymns heard far at close of day.
Sounding I know not what in the sooth'd ear
Of sweetest sadness, the faint words make way
To his fierce heart, and, touch'd with grief sincere.
Streams from his pitying eye th' involuntary tear.

Such a request cannot be disregarded, so, although
Tancred is frantic with grief at the thought of having slain
his beloved, he hurries to a neighboring stream, draws
water in his helmet, and, after baptizing his dying sweet-
heart, swoons over her body. His companions, finding him
there, convey him and Clorinda 's body to his tent, where
they vainly try to rouse him, but he is so overcome with
melancholy that he thinks of nothing but joining Clorinda
in her tomb.

Canto XIII. Meantime the foe, having heard of
Clorinda 's death, vow to avenge her, while the Crusaders
seek materials to reconstruct their towers. Hastening to
a forest near by, they discover a wizard has cast such a
spell upon it that all who try to enter are frightened away.
Finally Tancred enters this place, and, although he is met
by earthquakes and other portents, he disregards them all,
and starts to cut down a tree. But, when blood gushes
from its stem, and when Clorinda 's voice informs him he
has wounded her again, he flees without having accom-
plished his purpose. Heat and drought now cause further
desertions and discourage the Crusaders, until Godfrey,
full of faith in the justice of their cause, prays so fervently
that rain is vouchsafed them.

Canto XIV. In a dream Godfrey is now admonished to
proceed, and told, if he can only persuade Rinaldo to re-
14

210 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

turn, Jerusalem will soon fall into the hands of the
Christians. Because no one knows where Rinaldo has gone,
Godfrey despatches two knights in quest of him. After
some difficulty they interview a wizard, who, after exhibit-
ing to them his magic palace, tells them Armida, to punish
Rinaldo for rescuing his companions from her clutches, has
captured him by magic means and borne him off to her
wonderful garden in the Fortunate Isles. The hermit then
bestows upon them a golden wand which will defeat all
enchantments, and bids them hasten to the Fortunate Isles.

Canto XV. Hastening off to the seashore armed with
this golden wand, these two knights find a magic vessel,
wherein they sail with fabulous speed over the sea, and
through the Strait of Gibraltar, out into the western ocean,
the nymph at the helm meanwhile informing them that this
is the road Columbus is destined to travel. Sailing thus
they reach the Fortunate Isles, where, notwithstanding
many enchantments and temptations brought to bear to
cheek their advance, they, thanks to the golden wand, force
their way into Armida 's wonderful garden.

Canto XVI.

These windings pass'd, the garden-gates unfold,
And the fair Eden meets their glad survey, —
Still waters, moving crystals, sands of gold,
Herbs, thousand flowers, rare shrubs, and mosses gray;
Sunshiny hillocks, shady vales; woods gay,
And grottoes gloomy, in one view combined.
Presented were; and what increased their play
Of pleasure at the prospect, was, to find
Nowhere the happy Art that had the whole design'd.

So natural seem'd each ornament and site.
So well was neatness mingled with neglect.
As though boon Nature for her own delight
Her mocker mock'd, till fancy's self was check'd;
The air, if nothing else there, is th' effect
Of magic, to the sound of whose soft flute
The blooms are born with which the trees are deck'd;
By flowers eternal lives th' eternal fruit.
This running richly ripe, while those but greenly shoot.

Then, peeping cautiously through the trees, they be-
hold Rinaldo reclining amid the flowers, his head resting

GERUSALEMME LIBERATA 211

in the enchantress' lap. Biding their time they watch
Armida leave the enamoured knight, then step forward and
bid him gaze into the magic mirror they have brought.
On beholding in its surface a reflection of himself as he
reaUy is, Binaldo, horrified, is brought to such a sense of
his depraved idleness, that he springs to his feet and
proposes to leave immediately with his companions. They
are about to depart without bidding farewell to the fair
enchantress, when she pursues them, and, after vainly
pleading with Binaldo to stay with her, proposes to join
him in any quality. "When he abruptly rejects her ad-
vances and sails away, Armida, disappointed and infuriated
because she has been scorned, hastens ofiE to the Egyptian
camp.

Canto XVII. There she joins the Christians' enemies,
declaring she dreams of naught save slaying Binaldo, and
takes an important part in the review which the poet de-
scribes minutely. To compass her ends the artful Armida,
whose charms have so lavishly been displayed that they
have fired every breast, promises to belong to the warrior
who will bring her Binaldo 's head. Meanwhile this hero
has returned to Palestine, and is met by the wizard, who,
after reproving him for his dalliance, gives him wonderful
armor, and exhibits on the shield the great deeds of an-
cestors of the Duke of Perrara.

Canto XVIII. Newly armed, Binaldo now returns to
the crusaders' camp, apologizes to Godfrey for breaking
the rules of the crusade, relates his adventures, and, after
humbly confessing his sins, starts forth to brave the spells
of the magic forest. Not only does he penetrate within
its precincts, but, undeterred by all Armida 's enchant-
ments, cuts down a tree, although, in hopes of staying his
hand, her voice accuses him of cruelly wounding her ! No
sooner has this tree fallen than the spell is broken; so
other trees are cut down without difiSeulty, engines built,
and all is prepared for a new assault on Jerusalem.

Godfrey is particularly eager to make this new attempt
immediately, because a carrier-pigeon has been caught bear-

212 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

iag a, message from the Egyptians to the Sultan of Jeru-
saleim, apprising him that within five days they will come
to his aid. During this assault of Jerusalem, a sorcerer on
the walls, working against the Christians, is slain by a rock.
Soon after, thanks to the efforts of the Crusaders, the
banner with the Cross floats over the walls of Jerusalem!

Then raised the Christians all their long loud shout
Of Victory, joyful, resonant, and high;
Their words the towers and temples lengthen out;
To the glad sound the mountains make reply:

Then the whole host pours in, not o'er the walls
Alone, but through the gates, which soon unclose,
Batter'd or burnt; and in wide ruin falls
Each strong defence that might their march oppose.
Bages the sword; and Death, the slaught'rer, goes
'Twixt Wo and Horror with gigantic tread.
From street to street; the blood in torrents flows.
And settles in lagoons, on all sides fed.
And swell'd with heaps on heaps of dying and of dead.

Canto XIX. Tancred, scaling a fortress, meets and
slays Argantes, receiving at the same time so grievous a
wound that he swoons on the battlefield. Meantime Godfrey
has sent a spy to the Egyptian camp to find out whether the
army is really coming on to Jerusalem. This spy, meeting
Erminia there, induces her not only to reveal aU the Egyp-
tians' plans (including a plot to slay Godfrey), but to go
back with him. While they journey along together to rejoin
the Christian forces, Erminia relates her adventures, saying
that while she was playing shepherdess, some freebooters
seized her and carried her to the Egyptian camp, where she
was placed under Armida's protection. Her story is just
finished when they perceive what appears to be a lifeless
warrior. By the red cross on iis armor the spy recognizes
a Christian, and further investigation enables him to
identify Tancred. Erminia — ^who has owned she loves him
— ^now takes possession of him, binds up his wounds with
her hair ( !), and vows she will nurse him back to health.

Canto XX. Warned by his spy that the Egyptians

GERUSALEMME LIBERATA 213

mean to send sundry of their number to mix, during the
battle, with his body-guard and kill him, Godfrey changes
the ensigns of his men, and thus discovers the conspirators,
who are promptly put to death. Seeing the Egyptian army
advance, Godfrey, in a stirring speech, urges his men to
do their best for the Holy Sepulchre, and thereby stimu-
lates them to fight so bravely that many of them lose their
lives. Among the slain are Gildippe and her husband, who,
having fought together side by side throughout the cam-
paign, die together and are buried in the same tomb. The
other party, however, is far more unfortunate, for the
Saracens lose the sultans Aladine and Solyman, the former
slain by Godfrey and the latter by Rinaldo.

Meantime Armida, wavering between love and hate,
tries to shoot Rinaldo, then flees, but, a little later, seeing
him slay Solyman, she tries to kill herself. It is at this
moment that Rinaldo approaches her, and offers to marry
her provided she will be converted. Not only does she now
promise conversion and marriage, but accompanies Rinaldo
back to the camp.

The Crusaders having completely defeated their foes
and secured possession of Jerusalem, march with solemn
hymns of praise to the Holy Sepulchre, where all kneel,
thanking God for permitting them to deliver it from the
hands of the heathen. It is with these thanks that the
poem ends.

Thus conquer'd Godfrey; and as yet there gloVd
A flush of glory in the fulgent West,
To the freed City, the once loved abode
Of Christ, the pious chief and armies press'd:
Arm'd as he was, and in his sanguine vest,
With all his knights in solemn cavalcade,
He reach'd the Temple; there, supremely bless'd.
Hung up his arms, his banner'd spoils display'd,
And at the sacred Tomb his vow'd devotions paid.

EPICS OP THE BRITISH ISLES

Although the name Celt was given by the early Greeks
to all the people living West of their country, the Romans
included under that name only the tribes occupying the
countries now known as Prance, Western Switzerland, Ger-
many west of the Rhine, Belgium, and the British Isles.
Blocked together under a generic name, the Celtic nation
was, however, composed of many tribes, with separate
dialects and customs. It has been surmised that two of
these tribes, the British and Irish, early took possession
of England and Ireland, where they flourished and sub-
divided until disturbed by invasions of various kinds.

The Celts all practised what is termed the Druidic cult,
their priests being poets, bards, or gleemen, who could com-
pose or recite in verse, ritual, laws, and heroic ballads.
During the four hundred years of Roman occupation, the
Celts in England became somewhat Romanized, but the
Irish, and their near relatives the Scots, were less influenced
by Latin civilization. It is therefore in Ireland, Scotland,
and Wales that the oldest traces of Celtic literature are
found, for the bards there retained their authority and
acted as judges after Christianity had been introduced, and
as late as the sixth century. Although St. Patrick is re-
ported to have forbidden these Irish bards to continue
their pagan incantations, they continued to exert some
authority, and it is said Irish priests adopted the tonsure
which was their distinctive badge. The bards, who could
recite and compose poems and stories, accompanying them-
selves on a rudimentary harp, were considered of much
higher rank than those who merely recited incantations.
They transmitted poems, incantations, and laws, orally
only, and no proof exists that the pagan Irish, for instance,
committed any works to writing previous to the intro-
duction of Christianity in their midst.

The heroic tales of Ireland from a large and well-marked

214

EPICS OF THE BRITISH ISLES 215

epic cycle, the central tale of the series being the anonymous
"Cattle of Cooly," wherein is related the war waged by
the Irish Queen Mab against her husband for the possession
of a mystic brown bull. In the course of this war the
chief hero, Cuchulaind, makes himself famous by defend-
ing the country of Ulster single-handed ! The still extant
tales of this epic cycle number about thirty, and give in
detail the lives of hero and heroine from birth to death,
besides introducing many legends from Celtic mythology.
The oldest MS. version of these tales, in mingled prose and
verse, dates back to the twelfth century, and is hence about
as venerable as the Edda.

The Fennian or Oisianic poems and tales form another
famous Irish cycle, Finn, or Fingal, their hero, having
acted as commander for a body of mercenaries in the third
century. His poet son, Oisin (the Ossiah of later Romance) ,
is said to have composed at least one of the poems in the
famous Book of Leinster. Between the twelfth century
and the middle of the fifteenth, this Fennian epos took on
new life, and it continued to grow until the eighteenth cen-
tury, when a new tale was added to the cycle.

The names of a few of the early Irish poets have been
preserved in Irish annals, where we note, for instance,
Bishop Fiance, author of a stiU extant metrical life of
St. Patrick, and Dalian FrogaeU, one of whose poems is in
the "Book of the Dun Cow," compiled before 1106. Up
to the thirteenth century most of the poets and harpers
used to include Scotland in their circuit, and one of them,
Muiredhach, is said to have received the surname of " the
Scotchman," because he tarried so long in that country.

When, after the fifteenth century, Irish literature be-
gan to decline, Irish poems were recast in the native Scotch
dialect, thus giving rise to what is known as Gaelic liter-
ature, which continued to flourish until the Reformation.
Samples of this old Gaelic or Erse poetry were discovered
by James Macpherson in the Highlands, taken down from
recitation, and used for the English compilation known as
the Poems of Ossian. Lacking sufficient talent and learn-

216 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

ing to remodel these fragments so as to produce a real
masterpiece, Macpherson — vfho erroneously termed his work
a translation — not only incurred the sharpest criticism,
but was branded as a plagiarist.

The "Welsh, a poetic race too, boast of four great poets, —
Taliessin, Aneurin, Llywarch Hen, and Myrden (Me:flin).
These composed poems possessing epic qualities, wherein
mention is made of some of the characters of the Arthurian
Cycle. One of the five Welsh MSS., which seem of suffi-
cient antiquity and importance to deserve attention, is the
Book of Taliessin, written probably during the fourteenth
century. The Welsh also possess tales in verse, either his-
torical or romantic, which probably antedated the extant
prose versions of the same tales. Eleven of these were
translated by Lady Charlotte Guest, and entitled Mabin-
ogion (Tales for Children), although only four out of the
eleven deserve that name. But some of these tales are con-
nected with the great Arthurian cycle, as Arthur is the
hero par excellence of Southern Wales, where many places
are identified with him or his court.

Although almost as little is known of the historical Arthur
as of the historical Roland, both are heroes of important
epic cycles. Leader probably of a small band of warriors,
Arthur gradually became, in the epics, first general-in-
chief, then king, and finally emperor of all Britain. It is
conjectured that the Arthurian legends must have passed
from South Wales into Cornwall, and thence into Armor-
ica, "where it is probable the Round Table was invented."
Enriched by new accretions from time to time, the Arthur-
ian cycle finally included the legend of the Holy Grail,
which must have originated in Provence and have been
carried into Brittany by jongleurs or travelling minstrels.

It has been ascertained that the legend of Arthur was
familiar among the Normans before Geoffrey of Monmouth
wrote his books, and it certainly had an incalculable forma-
tive influence on European literature, much of which can be
"traced back directly or indirectly to these legends." It
was also a vehicle for that element which we call chivalry,

EPICS OF THE BRITISH ISLES 217

which the church infused into it to fashion and mould the
rude soldiers of feudal times into Christian knights, and, as
it "expanded the imagination and incited the minds of men
to inquiry beyond the conventional notions of things," it
materially assisted in creating modem society.

After thus tracing the Celtic germs and iafluenee in
English literature, it becomes necessary to hark back to
the time of the Tehtonic invasions, since English thought
and speech, manners and customs are all of Teutonic origin.
The invaders brought with them an already formed lan-
guage and literature, both of which were imposed upon the
people. The only complete extant northern epic of Danish-
English origin is Beowulf, of which a synopsis follows, and
which was evidently sung by gleemen in the homes of the
great chiefs. Apart from Beowulf, some remains of
national epic poetry have come down to us in the fine frag-
ments of Finnsburgh and Waldhere, another version of
Walter of Aquitaiae.

There are also the Legends of Havelock the Dane, of
King Horn, of Beves of Hamdoun, and of Guy of Warwick,
aU four of which were later turned into popular prose
romances. Intense patriotic feeling also gave birth to the
Battle of Maldon, or Bryhtnoth's Death, an ancient poem,
fortunately printed before it was destroyed by fire. This
epic relates how the Viking Anlaf came to England with 93
ships, and, after hanying the coast, was defeated and
slain in battle.

The earliest Christian poet in England, C'ffidmon, in-
stead of singing of love or fighting, paraphrased the Scrip-
tures, and depicted the creation in such eloquent lines that
he is said to have inspired some of the passages in Milton's
Paradise Lost. Chief among the religious poems ascribed
to Csedmon, are Genesis, Exodus, and Daniel, but, although
in general he strictly conforms with the Bible narrative, he
prefixed to Genesis an account of the fall of the angels,
and thus supplied Milton with the most picturesque feature
of his theme.

Next come the epic poems of Cynewulf, Crist, Juliana,

218 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

Elene, and Andreas, also written in alliterative verse. In
Elene the poet gives us the legend of finding of the cross ^
by the empress Helena, dividing his poem into fourteen
cantos or fitts.

It is in Gildas and Nennius' Historia Britonum that
we find the first mention of the legendary colonization of
Britain and Ireland by refugees from Troy, and of the
exploits of Arthur and the prophesies of Merlin. This
work, therefore, contains some of the "germs of fables
which expanded into Geoffrey of Monmouth's History of
Britain, which was written in Latin some time before 1147,"
although this historian claims to derive his information from
an ancient British book of which no trace can be found.

There is, besides, a very curious yet important legend
cycle, in regard to a letter sent from Heaven to teach the
proper observation of Sunday. The text of this letter can
be found in old English in Wulfstan's homilies. Besides
sacred legends, others exist of a worldly nature, such as the
supposed letter from Alexander to Aristotle, the Wonders
of the East, and the Story of Apollonius of Tyre. The
first two, of course, formed part of the great Alexander
cycle, while the latter supplied the theme for Pericles of
Tyre.

With the Norman Conquest, French became the literary
language of England, and modem romance was born. Ro-
mance cycles on "the matter of France" or Legends of
Charlemagne, and on "the matter of Britain" or Legends
of Arthur, became popular, and Geoffrey of Monmouth
freely made use of his imagination to fill up the early
history of Britain, for his so-called history is in reality a
prose romance, whence later writers drew themes for many
a tale.

Walter Map, bom on the border of Wales in 1137, is
credited with the no longer extant Latin prose romance
of Lancelot du Lac, which included the Quest of the Holy
Grail and the Death of Arthur. Besides Wace's Brut, we
have that of Layamon, and both poets not only explain how

•See the author's "Legends of the Virgin and Christ."

EPICS OF THE BRITISH ISLES 219

Britain's name is derived from Brut, — a member of Priam's
family and refugee from Troy, — ^but go on to give the
history of other eeirly kings of Britain, including Arthur.
They often touch the true epic note, — as in the wrestling
match between Corineus and the giant, — use similes drawn
from every-day life, and supply us with legends of King
Lear and of Cymbeline.

It was toward the end of the twelfth century that
Arthur reached the height of his renown as romantic hero,
the "matter of Britain" having become international prop-
erty, and having been greatly enriched by poets of many
climes. By this time Arthur had ceased to be a king of
Britain, to become king of a fairyland and chief exponent
of chivalric ideals and aims.

To name all the poets who had a share in developing the
Arthurian Legend would prove an impossible task, but
Nennius, Gildas, Geoffrey of Monmouth, Wace, Layamon,
Benoit de St. Maur, Chrestien de Troyes, Marie de Prance,
Hartmann von der Aue, and Wolfram von Eschenbaeh
have, in English, French, and German, helped to develop
the "matter of Britain," and have managed to connect it
with "the matter of France."

During the age of metrical romances (1200 to 1500), all
the already extant cycles were remodelled and extended.
Besides, not only were Greek and Latin epics translated so
as to be within reach of aU, but one country freely bor-
rowed from another. Thus, the French romances of Huon
de Bordeaux and of the Four Sons of Aymon found many
admirers in England, where the former later supplied
Shakespeare with some of the characters for a Midsummer
Night's Dream. It was to offset the very popular romance
of Alexander, that some patriotic poet evolved the romance
of Richard Cceur de Lion, explaining how this king earned
his well-known nickname by wrenching the heart out of a
lion!

Some of these romances, such as Flores and Blanche-
flour, have "the voluptuous qualities of the East," make
great use of magic of all kinds, and show the idyllic side

220 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

of love. The tragedy of love is depicted in the romance
of Tristram and Iseult, where a love-potion plays a promi-
nent part. But, although knightly love and valor are
the stock topics, we occasionally come across a theme of
Christian humility, like Sir Isumbras, or of democracy, as
in the Squire of Low Degree and in the Ballads of Robin
Hood.

With the advent of Chaucer a new poet, a new lan-
guage, and new themes appear. Many of his Canterbury
tales are miniature epics, borrowed in general from other
writers, but retold with a charm all his own. The Knight's
Tale, or story of the rivalry in love of Palamon and
Arcite, the tale of Gamelyn, and that of Troilus and Cres-
sida, all contain admirable epic passages.

Spenser, our next epic poet, left us the unfinished
Faerie Queene, an allegorical epic which shows the influence
of Ariosto and other Italian poets, and contains exquisitely
beautiful passages descriptive of nature, etc. His allegor-
ical plot affords every facility for the display of his grace-
ful verse, and is outlined in another chapter.

There are two curious but little-known English epics,
William Warner's chronicle epic entitled "Albion's Eng-
land" (1586), and Samuel Daniel's "Civil Wars." The
first, beginning with the flood, carries the reader through
Greek mythology to the Trojan War, and hence by means
of Brut to the beginnings of English history, which is then
continued to the execution of Maiy Stuart. The second
(1595) is an epic, in eight books, on the Wars of the Roses.
Drayton also wrote, on the theme of the Civil Wars, an
epic entitled "The Barons' Wars," and undertook a de-
scriptive and patriotic epic in "Polyolbion," wherein he
makes a tour of England relating innumerable local legends.

Abraham Cowley composed an epic entitled "Davideis,"
or the troubles of David. He begins this work in four
books with a description of two councils held in Heaven
and hell in regard to the life of this worthy.

Dryden was not only a translator of the classic epics,
but projected an epic of his own about' Arthur. Almost

EPICS OF THE BRITISH ISLES 221

at the same time Pope was planning to write one on Brut,
but he too failed to carry out his intentions, and is best
known as the translator of the Iliad, although some author-
ities claim the " Rape of the Lock " is a unique sample of
the epopee galante.

The poet Keats, whose life was so short, left us a com-
plete mythological epic in "Bndymion," a fragment of one
in "Hyperion," and a reproduction of one of the old ro-
mances in "Isabella, or a Pot of Basil."

Shelley, Keats' contemporary, wrote poems abounding
in epic passages, — ^"Alastor, or the Spirit of Solitude,"
"The Revolt of Mam," "Adonais," and "Prometheus Un-
bound"; while Byron's epical poems are "Manfred," "The
Corsair," and "Don Juan"; and Scott's, "The Lay of the
Last Minstrel," "Marmion," "The Lady of the Lake,"
and "The Bridal of Triermain."

The greatest of Coleridge's poems, "The Ancient
Mariner," is sometimes called a visionary epic, while his
"Christabel" conforms more closely to the old roman
d'aduenture.

As the translator of the epical romances of "Amadis de
Gaule" and "Palmerin," Southey won considerable re-
nown ; he also wrote the oriental epics ' ' Thalaba ' ' and ' ' The
Curse of Kehama," as well as epical poems on "Madoc,"
"Joan of Arc," and "Roderick, the Last of the Goths."

Moore, although preeminently a lyric poet, has left us
the eastern epic "LaUa Rookh," and Loekhart some "Span-
ish Ballads" which paraphrase the Cid.

Among Macaulay's writings the "Lays of Anraent
Rome" have epic qualities, which are also found in Leigh
Hunt's "Story of Rimini."

The plot of Tristram has been utilized both by Matthew
Arnold and by Swinburne, while William and Lewis Morris
have rewritten some of the old classic stories in "The.
Earthly Paradise," the "Life and Death of Jason," the
"Defense of Guinevere," and the "Epic of Hades."

It was, however, the Victorian poet-laureate Tennyson
who gave the Arthurian Legend its latest and most artistic

222 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

touches in "Idylls of the King." Some critics also claim
as an example of the domestic epic his "Enoch Arden."

Among recent writers, sundry novelists have been hailed
as authors of prose epics. Thomas Westwood has com-
posed in excellent verse the "Quest of the Sangreall," Mrs.
Trask "Under King Constantine, " a notable addition to
the Arthurian cycle, and Stephen Philips has sung of
Ulysses and of King Alfred.

BEOWULF ^

Introduction. The only Anglo-Saxon epic which has
been preserved entire was probably composed in Sweden
before the eighth century, and taken thence to England,
where this pagan poem was worked over and Christianized
by some Northumbrian bard. Although some authorities
declare it dates back as far as the fifth century, most afSrm
it must have been composed in the seventh. The present
manuscript, now preserved in the British Museum, dates
back to the tenth century. It contains some 3182 lines,
and is written in alliterative verse (that is to say, that all
the lines are written in pairs and that each perfect pair
contains two similar sounds in the first line and one in
the second) . Although the author of Beowulf is unknown,
the poem affords priceless hints in regard to the armor,
ships, and mode of life of our early Saxon fore-fathers.
Many translations of the poem have been made, some in
prose and others in verse, and the epic as it stands, con-
sisting of an introduction and forty-two "Pits," is the
main text for the study of the Anglo-Saxon language.

The Epic. Hrothgar, King of Denmark, traces his
origin to Skiold, son of Odin, who as an infant drifted to
Demnark's shores. This child lay on a sheaf of ripe
wheat, surrounded by priceless weapons, jewels, and a
wonderful suit of armor, which proved he must be the
scion of some princely race. The childless King and Queen

' See also the author's " Legends of the Middle Agesi"

BEOWULF 223

of Denmark therefore gladly adopted him, and in due time
he succeeded them and ruled over the whole country. When
he died, his subjects, placing his body in the vessel in which
he had come, set him adrift.

Men are not able
Soothly to tell us, they in halls who reside,
Heroes under heaven, to what haven he hied."

Hrothgar, his descendant, constructed a magnificent
hall, called Heorot, wherein to feast his retainers and en-
tertain them with the songs of the northern skalds.

It burned in his spirit
To urge his folk to found a great building,
A mead-hall grander than men of the era
Ever had heard of, and in it to share
With young and old all of the blessings
The Lord had allowed him, save life and retainers.

The night of the inauguration of this building, the
royal body-guard lay down in the hall to sleep ; and, when
the servants entered the place on the morrow, they were
horrified to find floor and walls spattered with blood, but
no other trace of the thirty knights who had rested there
the night before. Their ery of horror aroused Hrothgar,
who, on investigating, discovered gigantic footsteps leading
straight from the hall to the sluggish waters of a moun-
tain tarn, above which a phosphorescent light always hov-
ered. These footsteps were those of Grendel, a descendant
of Cain, who dwelt in the marsh, and who had evidently
slain and devoured all the king's men.

Too old to wield a sword in person, Hrothgar offered
a princely reward to whoever would rid his country of this
terrible scourge. But, although many warriors gladly
undertook the task, the monster proved too strong for all,
and none save a minstrel — ^who hid in one corner of the
hall — ever succeeded in escaping from his clutches. This
minstrel, after seeing Grendel feed upon his companions,

'All the quotations in this chapter are taken from Hall's
translation of " Beowulf."

224 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

was so impressed by the sight, that he composed a song
about it, which he sang wherever he went, and once repeated
for the entertainment of King Higelae and his nephew
Beowulf. In answer to their eager questions, the bard
averred the monster still existed and invariably invaded
the haU when a feast was held there. This was enough to
arouse in Beowulf a burning desire to visit Denmark and
rid the world of this scourge. Knowing his nephew was
very brave and having had proof of his endurance (for the
young man had once in the course of a swimming match,
stayed in the water five whole days and nights, killing many
sea monsters who came to attack him), Higelae gladly
allowed him to depart with fourteen chosen companions.
Thus Beowulf set out "over the Swan-Road" for Denmark,
to offer his services to the king.

The foamy-necked floater fanned by the breeze,
Likest a bird, glided the waters,
Till twenty and four hours thereafter
The twist-stemmed vessel had travelled such distance
That the sailing-men saw the sloping embankments.
The sea-cliffs gleaming, precipitous mountains,
Nesses enormous: they were nearing the limits
At the end of the ocean.

On seeing a vessel with armed men approach their
shores, the Danish coast guards challenged the new-comers,
who rejoined their intentions were purely friendly, and
begged to be led to the king. There Beowulf and his
attendants — after paying their respects to Hrothgar —
offered their services to rid him of the terrible scourge
which had preyed so long upon his people. On hearing
this, the king immediately ordered a feast prepared, and
at its close allowed Beowulf, at his request, to remain
alone in the hall with his men. Aware that no weapon
could pierce the armed hide of the uncanny monster,
Beowulf — who had the strength of thirty men — ^laid aside
his armor and prepared to grapple with Grendel by main
strength when he appeared.

BEOWULF a25

Then the brave-mooded hero bent to his slumber.
The pillow received the cheek of the noble;
And many a martial mere-thane attending
Sank to his slumber.

Just as the chill of morning invades the hall, Beowulf
hears stealthy steps approaching and the great door bursts
open, admitting a monster, aU enveloped in clammy mist,
which — ■pouncing upon one of the men — crunches his bones
and greedily drinks his blood. Beowulf, intently watching
the fiend, seeing him stretch out a horny hand for another
victim, suddenly grasps it with such force and determina-
tion that the monster, notwithstanding frantic efforts, can-
not free himself. A terrible struggle now takes place, in
the course of which Beowulf and Grendel, wrestling madly,
overturn tables and couches, shaking the hall to its very
foundations. Nevertheless, Beowulf chngs so fast to the
hand and arm he had grasped, that the monster, trying to
free himself by a mighty jerk, tears his arm out of its
socket and disappears, uttering a blood-curdling cry, and
leaving this trophy in his foe's grasp. Mortally wounded,
Grendel hastens back to his marsh, leaving a trail of blood
behind him, while Beowulf, exhausted but triumphant,
proudly exhibits the huge hand and limb which he has
wrenched from the monster, declaring it will henceforth
serve to adorn Heorot.

When Hrothgar beholds it on the morrow and hears
an account of the night's adventures, he warmly congratu-
lates Beowulf, upon whom he bestows rich gifts, and in
whose honor he decrees a grand feast shall be held in this
hall. While they are drinking there and listening to the
music of the skalds (who sing of Sigmund the dragon-
slayer and of a fight at Finnsburgh) , Wealtheow, Queen of
Denmark, appears in their midst, and bestows upon Beowulf
a wonderful necklace and a ring of the finest gold, bidding
him wear them in memory of his triumph.

The feast over, Hrothgar escorts his guest to the palace,
where he is to rest that night, leaving his own men to
guard Heorot, for all feel eonfident Grendel has been too

15

226 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

sorely wounded ever to appear again. But, while the war-
riors sleep peacefully, the giant's mother — an equally
hideous monster — comes into the haU, secures her son's
gory arm which hangs there as a trophy, and bears away
Aeschere, one of the king's friends.

On learning of this loss on the morrow, Hrothgar is
overcome with grief, and Beowulf, hearing his lamentations,
suddenly appears to inquire what has occurred. On learn-
ing the ghastly news, he volunteers to complete his work
and avenge Aeschere by attacking Grendel's mother in her
own retreat. But, knowing the perils he is facing, he makes
his arrangements in ease he should never return, before
following the bloody traces left by the monsters. Then he
hastens to the pool, where he finds Aeschere 's head set
aloft as a trophy! Gazing down into the depths, Beowulf
now perceives the waters are darkly tinged with the mon-
ster's blood, but nevertheless plunges boldly into their
depths, where he swims about a whole day seeking Grendel's
retreat. Guided at last by a phosphorescent gleam, our
hero finally reaches a cave, after slaying on the way a
number of monsters sent to cheek his advance. On nearing
the giants' den, a strong eddy suddenly sweeps him within
reach of Grendel's mother, who, clutching him fast, flings
him on the floor, and is trying to find a joint in his armor,
so as to kill him with her knife, when Beowulf, snatching
a sword hanging from a rocky projection, deals her so fierce
a blow that he severs her head from its trunk.

Then he saw amid the war-gems a weapon of victory.

An ancient giant-sword, of edges a-doughty,

Glory of warriors: of weapons 'twas choicest,

Only 'twas larger than any man else was

Able to bear in the battle-encounter,

The good and splendid work of the giants.

He grasped then the sword-hilt, knight of Scyldings,

Bold and battle-grim, brandished his ring-sword.

Hopeless of living hotly he smote her.

That the fiend-woman's neck firmly it grappled.

Broke through her bone-joints, the bill fully pierced her

Fate-curs6d body, she fell to the ground then:

BEOWULF 227

The hand sword was bloody, the hero exulted.
The brand was brilliant, brightly it glimmered.
Just as from heaven gem-like shineth
The torch of the firmament.

The blood from this monster, pouring out of the cave,
mingles with the waters Andthout, which begin to seethe and
bubble in so ominous a way that Hrothgar and his men,
exclaiming Beowulf is dead, sadly depart. The hero's at-
tendants, however, mindful of orders received, linger at the
side of the mere, although they cherish small hope of ever
beholding their master again.

Having disposed of Grendel's mother, Beowulf rushes
to the rear of the cave, where, finding Grendel dead, he
cuts off his head, and with this trophy makes his way up
through the tainted waters, which melt his sword, so that
he has nothing but the hilt left on reaching the shore.

The sword-blade began then.
The blood having touched it, contracting and shrivelling
With battle-icicles; 'twas a wonderful marvel
That it melted entirely, likest to ice when
The Father unbindeth the bond of the frost and
Unwindeth the wave-bands. He who wieldeth dominion
Of times and of tides: a truth-firm Creator.

It is just as his followers are about to depart that
Beowulf emerges from the waters, and, when they behold
his trophy and hear his tale, they escort him back in
triumph to Heorot, where the grateful Danes again load
him with presents.

His task accomplished, Beowulf returns home, where
he bestows the necklace he has won upon the Queen of the
Geats, and continues faithfully to serve the royal couple,
even placing their infant son upon the throne after their
death, and defending his rights as long as he lives. Then
the people elect Beowulf king, and during a reign of fifty
years he rules them wisely and well. Old age has robbed
Beowulf of part of his fabulous strength, when his sub-
jects are suddenly dismayed by the ravages of a fire-breath-
ing dragon, which has taken up its abode in some neighbor-

228 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

ing mountains, where he gloats over a hoard of glittering
gold. A fugitive slave having made his way into the
monster's den during one of its absences and abstracted a
small portion of its treasure, the incensed firedrake, in
revenge, flies all over the land, vomiting fire and smoke in
every direction, and filling all hearts with such terror that
the people implore Beowulf to deliver them from this
monster too.

Although Beowulf realizes he no longer enjoys youthful
vigor, he, nevertheless, sets out bravely with eleven men to
attack the monster. On reaching the mountain goi^e, he
bids his small troop stand still, and, advancing alone, chal-
lenges the dragon to come forth. A moment later the
mountain shakes as a fire-breathing dragon rushes out to
attack Beowulf, who feels his fiery breath even through
shield and armor. With deadly fury the dragon attacks
the warrior, coiling his scaly folds around and around
Beowulf, who vainly slashes at him with his sword, for
scales made him invulnerable.

Seeing his master about to be crushed to death, Wiglaf
— one of Beowulf's followers — ^now springs forward to aid
him, thus causing sufficient diversion to enable Beowulf to
creep beneath the dragon, and drive his sword deep into
its undefended breast! Although the monster's coils now
drop limply away from his body, poor Beowulf has been
so sorely burned by its breath that he feels his end is near.
Turning to his faithful follower, he thanks him for his aid,
bidding him hasten into the cave and bring forth the
treasure he has won for his people, so he can feast his
eyes upon it before he dies.

" Fare thou with haste now
To behold the hoard 'neath the hoar-grayish stone,
WeIl-Iov6d Wiglaf, now the worm, is a-lying.
Sore-wounded sleepeth, disseized of his treasure
60 thou in haste that treasures of old I
Gold-wealth may gaze on, together see lying
The ether-bright jewels, be easier able,
Having the heap of hoard-gems, to yield my
Life and the land-folk whom long I have governed."

THE ARTHURIAN CYCLE 229

Sure that the monster can no longer molest them, the
rest of the warriors press forward in their turn, and re-
ceive the farewells of their dying chief, who, after rehears-
ing the great deeds he has done, declares he is about to
close honorably an eventful career. When he has breathed
his last, his followers push the corpse of the dragon off a
cliff into the sea, and erect on the headland a funeral bar-
row for Beowulf's ashes, placing within it part of the
treasure he won, and erecting above it a memorial, or bauta
stone, on which they carve the name and deeds of the great
hero who saved them from Grendel and from the fiery
dragon.

So lamented mourning the men of the Geats,
Pond-loving vassals the fall of their lord,
Said he was kindest of kings under heaven.
Gentlest of men, most winning of manner,
Friendliest to folk-troops and fondest of honor.

THE ARTHURIAN CYCLE

The Arthurian cycle consists in a number of epics or
romances about King Arthur, the knights of his Round
Table, or the ladies of his court. The Anglo-Norman
trouveres arranged these tales in graduated circles around
their nucleus, the legend of the Holy Grail. Next in im-
portance to this saered theme, and forming the first circle,
were the stories of Galahad and Percival who achieved the
Holy Grail, of Launcelot and Blaine who were favored with
partial ghmpses of it, and of Bors who accompanied Gala-
had and Percival in their journey to Sarras. The second
circle included the stories of Arthur and Guinevere, of
Geraint and Enid, of Tristan and Isolde, of Pelleas and
Ettarre, of Gareth and Lynette, of Gawain, and of Bede-
vere. The third and last circle dealt with the epics of Mer-
lin and Vivien, Uther and Igeme, Gorlois, and Vortigern.

To give a complete outline of the adventures which be-
fell all these knights and ladies in the course of seventeen
epics and romances, — of which many versions exist, and to

230 THE BOOK OP THE EPIC

which each new poet added some episode, — ^would reqxiire
far more space than any one volume would afford. A gen-
eral outline will therefore be given of the two principal
themes, the Quest of the Holy Grail and King Arthur and
his Round Table, mentioning only the main features of the
other epics as they impinge upon these two great centres.

Some of the greatest writers of the Arthurian cycle have
been Gildas, Nennius, Geoffrey of Monmouth, Wace, Robert
de Borron, Marie de France, Layamon, Chrestien de Troyes,
Benoit de St. Maur, Gaucher, Manessier, Gerbert, Knot de
Provence, Wolfram von Eschenbach, Gottfried von Strass-
burg, Hartmann von der Aue, Malory, Tennyson, Swin-
burne, Howard Pyle, Matthew Arnold, and Wagner. Still,
almost every writer of note has had something to say on the
subject, and thus the Arthuriana has become almost as
voluminous as the Shakespeariana. The legend of Arthur,
almost unknown before the twelfth century, so rapidly be-
came popular all over Europe, that it was translated into
every language and recited with endless variations at count-
less firesides.

Robert de Borron is said to be mainly responsible for
the tale of Merlin, the real poet of that name having been a
bard at the court, first of Ambrosius Aurelianus and then
of King Arthur. The Merlin of the romances is reported
to have owed his birth to the commerce of a fiend with an
unconscious nun. A priest, convinced of the woman's
purity of intention, baptized her child as soon as bom,
thus defeating the plots of Satan, who had hoped the son
of a fiend would be able to outwit the plans of the Son of
Man for human redemption. In early infancy, already,
this Merlin showed his miraculous powers, for he testified
in his mother's behalf when she was accused of incon-
tinency.

Meantime Constance, King of England, had left three
sons, the eldest of whom, Constantine, had entered a mon-
astery, while the two others were too young to reign. Drawn
from his retirement to wear a crown, Constantine proved
incapable to maintain order, so his general, Vortigem, with

THE ARTHURIAN CYCLE 231

the aid of the Saxon leaders Hengist and Horsa, usurped
his throne. Some time after, wishing to construct an
impregnable fortress on Salisbury Plain, Vortigem sent
for a host of masons, who were dismayed to see the work
they had done during the day destroyed every night.

On consulting an astrologer, Vortigem was directed to
anoint the stones with the blood of a boy of five who had
no human father. The only child corresponding to this
description was Merlin, who saved himself from untimely
death by telling the king that, if he dug down and drained
the lake he would find, he would discover broad stones be-
neath which slept two dragons by day, although they fought
so fiercely at night that they caused the tremendous earth-
quakes which shattered his walls. These directions were
followed, the dragons were roused, and fought until the
red one was slain and the two-headed white one disappeared.
Asked to explain the meaning of these two dragons. Merlin
— ^the uncanny child — declared the white dragon with two
heads represented the two younger sons of King Constance,
who were destined to drive Vortigem away. Having said
this. Merlin disappeared, thus escaping the wrath of
Vortigern, who wished to slay him.

Soon after, the young princes surprised and burned
Vortigem in his palace, and thus recovered possession of
their father's throne. Then, one of them dying, the other,
assuming both their names, became Uther Pendragon, king
of Britain. Such was his bravery that during his reign of
seven years he became overlord of all the petty kings who
had meantime taken possession of various parts of England.
He was aided in this work by his prime-minister, Merlin,
whose skiU as a clairvoyant, magician, inventor, and
artificer of all kinds of things — such as armor which noth-
ing could damage, a magic mirror, round table, ring, and
wonderful buildings — ^was of infinite service to his master
and fired the imagination of all the poets.

There are various accounts of Arthur's birth; according
to one, Uther fell in love with Gorlois' wife Igerne, who
■was already mother of three daughters. Thanks to Merlin 's

232 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

magic arts, Uther was able to visit Igeme in the guise of her
husband, and thus begot a son, who was entrusted to
Merlin's care as soon as bom. Another legend declares
that, after Gorlois' death, Uther Pendragon married Igerne,
and that Arthur was their lawful child. Feeling he was
about to die, and fearing lest his infant son should be made
away with by the lords he had compelled to obedience,
Uther Pendragon bade Merlin hide Arthur until he was
old enough to reign over Britain. Merlin therefore secretly
bore the babe, as soon as bom, to Sir Ector, who brought
Arthur up in the belief he was the younger brother of his
only son, Sir Kay.

Arthur had just reached eighteen when the Archbishop
of Canterbury besought Merlin to select an overlord who
would reduce the other kings to obedience, and thus restore
peace, law, and order in Britain. Thereupon Merlin prom-
ised him a king would soon appear whose rights none would
be able to dispute. Shortly after, on coming out of the
cathedral one feast-day, the archbishop saw a huge block
of stone, in which was imbedded an anvil, through which
was thrust a beautiful sword. This weapon, moreover, bore
an inscription, stating that he who pulled it out and thrust
it back would be the rightful heir to the throne.

Meantime a tournament had been proclaimed, and Sir
Kay, having broken his sword while fighting, bade his
brother Arthur get him another immediately. Unable to
find any weapon in their tent, Arthi^r ran to the anvU,
pulled out the sword, and gave it to Sir Kay. Seeing it in
his son's hand, Sir Ector inquired how it had been obtained,
and insisted upon Arthur's thrusting it back and taking it
out repeatedly, before he would recognize him as his king.
As none of the other lords could move the sword, and as
Arthur repeatedly proved his claim to it on the great feast-
days, he became overlord of all the petty kings. At Sir
Ector's request he appointed Sir Kay as steward of his
palace, and, thanks to the help of Merlin and of his brave
knights, soon subdued the rebels, and became not only
master of all England, but, if we are to believe the later

THE ARTHURIAN CYCLE 233

romances, a sort of English: Alexander, who, after crossing
the Alps, became Emperor of the World !

During his reign Arthur fought twelve memorable
battles, and, not content with this activity, often rode out
like other knights-errant in quest of adventure, challenging
any one who wanted to fight, rescuing captives, and aiding
damsels in distress. In these encounters Arthur wore the
peerless armor made by Merlin, and sometimes carried a
shield so brilliant that it blinded all who gazed upon it.
It was, therefore, generally covered with a close-fitting case,
which, like Arthur's helmet, bore as emblem a two-headed
dragon. Having lost his divine sword in one encounter,
Arthur was advised by Merlin to apply for another to
Nimue, or Nymue, the Lady of the Lake. She immediately
pointed out an arm, risiag from the middle of the lake,
brandishing a magnificent sword. Springing into a skiff
near by, Arthur was miraculously ferried to the centre of
the lake, where, as soon as he touched the sword, the mystic
arm disappeared. Merlin now informed Arthur that, fight-
ing with Excalibure, his wonderful sword, he could never
be conquered, and that as long as its scabbard hung by
his side he could not be wounded. Later on in the story,
Arthur, having incurred the anger of one of his step-sisters,
Morgana the Fay, she borrowed Excalibure under pretext
of admiring it, and had so exact a copy of it made that no
one suspected she had kept the magic sword until Arthur
was wounded and defeated. He, however, recovered posses-
sion of Excalibure — ^if not of the scabbard — ^before he
fought his last battle.

Arthur was not only brave, but very romantic, for,
Guinevere having bent over him once when he lay half un-
conscious from a wound, he fell so deeply in love with her
that he entered her father's service as garden boy. There
Guinevere discovered his identity, and, guessing why he had
come, teased him unmercifully. Shortly after, a neighbor-
ing, very ill-favored king declared Guinevere's old father
would be deprived of his kingdom unless she would consent

234 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

to marry him, and defied in single combat any one who
ventured to object to this arrangement.

Arthur, having secretly provided himself with a white
horse and armor, defeated this insolent suitor, and, after
a few more thrilling adventures, arranged for his marriage
to Guinevere in the fall. By Merlin's advice he also b^ged
his future father-in-law to give him, as wedding present,
the Round Table Merlin had made for Uther Pendragon.
This was a magic board around which none but virtuous
knights could sit. When led to a iseat, any worthy candidate
beheld his name suddenly appear on its back, in golden
letters, which vanished only at his death, or when he became
unworthy to occupy a seat at the Round Table. Besides,
on one side of Arthur's throne was the Siege Perilous, which
none could occupy, under penalty of destruction, save the
knight destined to achieve the Holy Grail.

We are informed that Arthur sent his best friend and
most accomplished knight, Launcelot, to escort Guinevere
to Caerleon on Usk, where the wedding and first session of
the Round Table were to take place on the self-same day.
It seems that, when this Launcelot was a babe, his parents
had to flee from a burning home. Overcome by sorrow and
wounds, the poor father soon sank dying beside the road,
and, while the mother was closing his eyes, the Lady of the
Lake suddenly rose from her watery home, seized the babe,
and plunged back with him into its depths. The widowed
and bereft woman- therefore entered a convent, where she
was known as the Lady of Sorrows, for little did she sus-
pect her son was being trained by Pellias — ^husband of the
Lady of the Lake — ^to become the most famous knight of
the Round Table. At eighteen the Lady of the Lake de-
cided it was time Launcelot should be knighted. So, on St.
John's eve — when mortals can see fairies — ^Bong Arthur and
Sir Ector were led, by a mysterious damsel and dwarf, to
a place where Pellias and the Lady of the Lake begged them
to knight their protege and pupil, who was henceforth to
be known as Launcelot of the Lake. Not only did Arthur

THE ARTHURIAN CYCLE 235

gladly bestow the accolade upon the young man, but he
took him with him to Camelot.

It was as supreme honor and mark of confidence that
Arthur sent Launcelot to get Guinevere. Some legends
claim these two already loved each other dearly, others that
they fell in love during the journey, others still that their
guilty passion was due to a love potion, and a few that
Guinevere, incensed by the behavior of Arthur, — ^whora
some of the epics do not depict as Tennyson's "blameless
king," — proved faithless in revenge later on. All the
versions, however, agree that Launcelot cherished an in-
curable, guilty passion for Guinevere, and that she proved
untrue to her marriage vows. Time and again we hear of
stolen meetings, and of Launcelot 's deep sorrow at deceiving
the noble friend whom he continues to love and admire.
This is the only blemish in his character, while Guinevere is
coquettish, passionate, unfeeling, and exacting, and has
little to recommend her aside from grace, beauty, and per-
sonal magnetism. At court she plays her part of queen
and lady of the revels with consummate skill, and we have
many descriptions of festivities of all kinds. During a
maying party the queen was once kidnapped by a bold
admirer and kept for a time in durance vile. Laixncelot,
posting after her, ruthlessly cut down all who attempted
to cheek him, and, his horse falling at last beneath him,
continued his pursuit in a wood-chopper's cart, although
none but criminals were seen in such a vehicle in the
Middle Ages. The Knight of the Cart was, however, only in-
tent upon rescuing the queen, who showed herself very un-
grateful, for she often thereafter taunted him with this
ride and laughed at the gibes the others lavished upon him.
Twice Guinevere drove Launcelot mad with these taunts,
and frequently she heartlessly sent him ofE on dangerous
errands.

Launcelot, however, so surpassed all the knights in cour-
age and daring that he won all the prizes in the tourna-
ments. A brilliant series of these entertainments was given
by the king, who, having found twelve large diamonds in

236 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

the crown of a dead king, offered one of them as prize on
each occasion. Launcelot, having secured all but the last,
decided to attend the last tournament in disguise, after
carefuUy informing king and queen he would not take part
in the game.

Pausing at the Castle of Astolat, he borrowed a blank
shield, and left his own in the care of Elaine, daughter of
his host, who, although he had not shown her any attention,
had fallen deeply in love with him. As further disguise,
Launcelot also wore the favor Elaine timidly offered, and
visited the tournament escorted by her brother. Once more
Launcelot bore down all rivals, but he was so sorely
wounded in the last encounter that he rode off without tak-
ing the prize. Elaine's brother, following him, conveyed
him to a hermit's, where some poets claim Elaine nursed
him back to health. Although there are two Elaines in
Launcelot 's hfe, i.e., the daughter of Pelles (whom he is
tricked into marrying and who bears bim Galahad) and
the "lily maid of Astolat," — some of the later writers
fancied there was only the latter. Accordiag to some ac-
counts Launcelot lived happily with the first Elaine in the
castle he had conquered, — Joyous Garde, — ^untal Queen
Guinevere, consumed by jealousy, summoned them both to
court. There she kept them apart, and so persecuted poor
Elaine that she crept off to a convent, where she died, after
bringing Galahad into the world and after predicting he
would achieve the Holy Grail.

The other Elaine, — as Tennyson so beautifully relates,
a dying of unrequited love, bade her father and brothers
send her corpse down the river in charge of a dumb boat-
man. Everybody knows of the arrival of the funeral bai^e
at court, of the reading of the letter in Elaine's dead hand,
and of Launcelot 's sorrow over the suffering he had un-
wittingly caused.

Launcelot and Guinevere are not the only examples in
the Arthurian Cycle of the love of a queen for her hus-
band's friend, and of his overwhelming passion for the

THE BODY OF ELAINE ON ITS WAY TO KING ARTHUR S PALACE

By Guatave Dore

THE ARTHURIAN CYCLE 237

wife of his master. Another famovis couple, Tristram and
Iseult,^ also claims our attention.

The legend of Tristram was already known in the sixth
century, and from that time until now has been periodically
rewritten and embellished. Like most mediaeval legends, it
begins with the hero 's birth, gives in detail the whole story
of his life, and ends only when he is safely dead and buried !

The bare outline of the main events in Tristram's very
adventurous career are the elopement of his mother, a sister
of King Mark of Cornwall. Then, while mourning for her
beloved, this lady dies in giving birth to her son, whom she
names Tristram, or the sad one.

Brought up by a faithful servant, — Gouvemail or Kur-
venal, — Tristram learns to become a peerless hunter and
musician. After describing sundry childish and youthful
adventures in different lands, the various legends agree in
bringing him to his uncle's court, just as a giant champion
arrives from Ireland, claiming tribute in money and men
unless some one can defeat him in battle. As neither Mark
nor any of his subjects dare venture to face the challenger,
Morolt, Tristram volunteers his services. The battle takes
place on an island, and, after many blows have been given
and received and the end has seemed doubtful, Tristram
(who has been wounded by his opponent's poisoned lance)
Mils him by a blow of his sword, a splinter of which remains
embedded in the dead giant's skull. His corpse is then
brought back to Ireland to receive sepulchre at the hands
of Queen Iseult, who, in preparing the body for the grave
finds the fragment of steel, which she treasures, thinking
it may some day help her to find her champion's slayer and
enable her to avenge his death.

Meanwhile Tristram's wound does not heal, and, realiz-
ing Queen Iseult alone will be able to cure him, he sails
for Ireland, where he presents himself as the minstrel Tram-
tris, and rewards the oare of the queen and her daughter —
both bearing the name of Isenlt^by his fine music.

On his return to Cornwall, Tristram, who has evidently

* See the author's " Stories of the Wagner Operas."

238 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

been impressed by Princess Iseult's beauty, sings her
praises so enthusiastically that King Mark decides to pro-
pose for her hand, and — advised by the jealous courtiers,
who deem the expedition perilous in the extreme — selects
Tristram as his ambassador.

On landing in Ireland, Tristram notices ill-concealed
excitement, and discovers that a dragon is causing such
damage in the neighborhood that the king has promised his
daughter's hand to the warrior who would slay the monster.

Nothing daunted, Tristram sets out alone, and beards
the dragon in his den to such good purpose that he kills
him and carries off his tongue as a trophy. But, wounded
in his encounter, Tristram soon sinks by the roadside un-
conscious. The king's butler, who has been spying upon
him and who deems him dead, now cuts off the dragon's
head and lays it at the king's feet, claiming the promised
reward.

Princess Iseult and her mother refuse, however, to be-
lieve that this man — a notorious coward — ^has performed
any such feat, and hasten out to the battle-field. There
they find not only the headless dragon, but the unconscious
Tristram, and the tongue which proves him the real victor.
To nurse him back to health is no great task for these ladies,
who, like many of the heroines of the mediaeval epics and
romances, are skilled leeches and surgeons.

One day, while guarding their patient's slumbers, the
ladies idly examine his weapons, and make the momentous
discovery that the bit of steel found in Morolt's head ex-
actly fits a nick in Tristram's sword.

Although both had sworn vengeance, they decide the ser-
vice Tristram has just rendered them and their country
more than counterbalances the rest, and therefore let him
go unscathed.

Fully restored to health, Tristram proves the butler had
no right to Iseult's hand, and, instead of enforcing his own
claim, makes King Mark's proposals known. Either be-
cause such an alliance flatters their pride or because they
dare not refuse, Iseult's parents accept in their daughter's

THE ARTHURIAN CYCLE 239

name and prepare everything for her speedy departure.
The queen, mshing to save her daughter from the curse of
a loveless marriage, next brews a love-potion which she
bids Brengwain — ^her daughter's maid and companion — ad-
minister to King Mark and Iseult on their wedding night.

During the trip across the Irish Channel, Tristram en-
tertains Princess Iseult with songs and tales, until he be-
comes so thirsty that he begs for a drink. By mistake the
love-potion is brought, and, as Iseult graciously dips her
lips in the cup before handing it to her entertainer, it comes
to pass both partake of the magic draught, and thus become
victims of a passion which naught can cure. Still, as their
intentions remain perfectly honorable, they continue the
journey to Cornwall, and, in spite of all he suffers, Tristram
delivers the reluctant bride into his uncle's hands.

Some legends claim that Iseult made her maid Breng-
wain take her place by the king's side on their wedding
night, and that, although the Irish princess dwelt in the
palace at Cornwall, she never proved untrue to her lover
Tristram. The romances now give us stolen interviews,
temporary elopements, and hair-breadth escapes from all
manner of dangers. Once, for instance, Iseult is summoned
by her husband to appear before the judges and clear her-
self from all suspicion of infidelity by taking a public oath
in their presence. By Iseult 's directions, Tristram, dis-
guised as a mendicant, carries her ashore from the boat,
begging for a kiss as reward. This enables the queen to
swear truthfully that she has never been embraced by any
man save King Mark and the mendicant who carried her
ashore !

Tristram — ^like Launcelot — deeply feels the baseness of
his conduct toward his uncle and often tries to tear him-
self away, but the spell of the magic potion is too powerful
to break. Once remorse and shame actually drive him mad,
and he roams around the country performing all manner of
crazy deeds.

He too, when restored to his senses, visits Arthur's court,
ia admitted to the Round Table, and joins in the Quest for

240 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

the Holy Grail, which, of course, he cannot achieve. Then
he does marvels in the matter of hunting and fighting, and,
having received another dangerous wound, wonders who
besides Iseult of Cornwall can cure it ? It is then he hears
for the first time of Iseult of Brittany (or of the White
Hands), whose skill in such matters is proverbial, and, seek-
ing her aid, is soon made whole. But meantime the phy-
sician has fallen in love with her patient, and fancies her
love is returned because every lay he sings is in praise of
Iseult!

Her brother, discovering her innocent passion, reveals
it to Tristram, who, through gratitude or to drive the re-
membrance of his guilty passion out of his mind, finally
marries her. But even marriage cannot make him forget
Iseult of Cornwall. The time comes when, wounded beyond
the power of his wife's skill to cure, Tristram sends for
Iseult of Cornwall, who, either owing to treachery or to
accident, arrives too late, and dies of grief on her lover's
corpse.

Some legends vary greatly in the manner of Tristram's
death, for he is sometimes slain by King Mark, who is
justly angry to find him in his wife's company. Most of
the versions, however, declare that the lovers were buried
side by side, and that creepers growing out of their re-
spective graves twined lovingly around each other.

Other beautiful episodes which are taken from old Welsh
versions of the Arthurian legends are the stories of Geraint
and Enid, of Pelleas and Ettarre, of Gareth and Lynette,
which have received their latest and most beautiful setting
at the hands of the poet-laureate Tennyson, and the very
tragic and pathetic tale of the twin brothers Balin and
Balan, who, after baleful happenings galore, failing to
recognize each other, fight until one deals the "dolorous
stroke" which kills his brother.

Were any one patient enough to count the characters,
duels, and hairbreadth escapes in Malory's Morte d 'Arthur,
the sum might well appall a modem reader. Magic, too,
plays a prominent part in the Arthurian cycle, where Mer-

THE ARTHURIAN CYCLE 241

lin, by means of a magic ring given by the Lady of the
Lake to her sister Vivien, becomes so infatuated with the
latter lady, that she is able to coax from him all his secrets,
and even to learn the spell whereby a mortal can be kept
alive although hidden from all eyes. Having obtained the
magic formula by bringing all her coquettish -wiles to bear
upon besotted old Merlin, Vivien is said to have decoyed
the wizard either to an enchanted castle, where she enclosed
him in a stone sepulchre, or into the forest of Broceliande,
in Brittany, where she left him, spellbound in a flowering
thorn-bush. Another legend, however, claims that, having
grown old and forgetful, Merlin absent-mindedly attempted
to sit down in the Siege Perilous, only to be swallowed up
by the yawning chasm which opened beneath his feet.

It was at the height of Arthur's prosperity and fame
that the knights of the Round Table solemnly pledged them-
selves to undertake the Quest of the Holy Grail, as is
described in the chapter on that subject. Their absence,
the adultery of the queen, and the king's consciousness
of past sins cast such a gloom over the once brilliant re-
unions of Camelot and Caerleon, as well as over the whole
land, that Arthur's foes became bolder, and troubles thick-
ened in an ominous way. Finally, most of the knights re-
turned from the Quest sadder and wiser men, Launeelot
was banished by the king to Joyous Garde, and was there-
fore not at hand when the last great fight occurred. Mor-
dred, the Judas of the Arthurian cycle — whom some poets
represent as the illegitimate and incestuous son of Arthur,
while others merely make him a nephew of the king — ^rebels
against Arthur, who engages in his last battle, near the
Castle of Tintagel, where he was born.

In this encounter all are slain on both sides, and Arthur,
having finally killed the traitor Mordred, after receiving
from him a grievous wound, finds no one near to help or
sustain him save Sir Bedevere. Knowing his wonderful
blade Excalibure must return to its donor ere he departs,
Arthur thrice orders his henchman to cast it into the mere.
Twice Sir Bedevere hides the sword instead of obeying, but
16

242 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

the third time, having exactly carried out the royal orders,
he reports having seen a hand rise out of the Lake, catch
and brandish Excalibure, and vanish beneath the waters
with it! Arthur is next carried by Sir Bedevere down to
the water's edge, where a mysterious barge receives the
almost dying king. In this barge are three black-veiled
queens, — the king's step-sisters, — and, when Arthur's head
has been tenderly laid in the lap of Morgana the Fay, he
announces he is about to sail off to the Isle of Avalon "to
be healed of his wound." Although the Isle of Avalon was
evidently a poetical mediaeval version of the " bourne
whence no man returns," people long watched for Arthur's
home-coming, for he was a very real personage to readers
of epics and romances in the Middle Ages.

Guinevere — ^her sin having been discovered by her
hitherto fabulously blind husband — took refuge in a nun-
nery at Ahnesbury, where she received a farewell visit from
Arthur and an assurance of his forgiveness, before he rode
into his last fight.

As for Launcelot, he, too, devoted his last days to penance
and prayer in a monastery. There he remained until
warned in a vision that Guinevere was dead. Leaving his
cell, Launcelot hastened to Almesbury, where, finding
Guinevere had ceased to breathe, he bore her corpse to
Glastonbury — ^where according to some versions Arthur had
been conveyed by the barge and buried — and there laid her
to rest at her husband's feet.

Then Launcelot again withdrew to his cell, where he died
after six months' abstinence and prayer. It was his heir.
Sir Ector, who feelingly pronounced the eulogy of the
knight par excellence of the mediaeval legends in the follow-
ing terms: " 'Ah, Sir Lancelot,' he said, 'thou were head
of all Christian knights; and now I dare say,' said Sir
Ector, 'that. Sir Lancelot, there thou liest, thou were never
matched of none earthly knight's hands; and thou were
the courtliest knight that ever bare shield ; and thou were
the truest friend to thy lover that ever bestrode horse ; and
thou were the truest lover of a sinful man that ever loved

ROBIN HOOD 243

woman; and thou were the kmdest man that ever struck
with sword ; and thou were the goodliest person that ever
came among press of knights; and thou were the meekest
man, and the gentlest, that ever ate in hall among ladies ;
and thou were the sternest knight to thy mortal foe that
ever put spear in rest. ' ' '

EOBIN HOOD

Among the most popular of the prose epics is the story
of Robin Hood, compiled from some twoseore old English
ballads, some of which date back at least to 1400. This
material has recently been charmingly rfeworked by Howard
Pyle, who has happily illustrated his own book. The bare
outline of the tale is as follows :

In the days of Henry II lived in Sherwood Forest the
famous outlaw Robin Hood, with his band of sevenscore
men. At eighteen years of age Robin left Locksley to
attend a shooting-match in a neighboring town. While
crossing the forest one of the royal gamekeepers tauntingly
challenged him to prove his skill as a marksman by killing
a deer just darting past them. But, when the unsuspecting
youth brought down this quarry, the forester proposed to
arrest him for violating the law. Robin, however, deftly
escaped, and, when the keeper sent an arrow after him,
retaliated by another, which, better aimed, killed one of
the king's men!

Although unwittingly guilty of murder, Robin, knowing
his life was forfeit, took to the forest, where he became an
outlaw. In vain the Sheriff of Nottingham tried to secure
him: Robin always evaded capture at his hands. Still he
did not remain in hiding, but frequently appeared among
his feUow-men, none of whom would betray him, although
the sheriff promised a reward of two hundred pounds for
his capture.

Once, while in quest of adventures, Robin met on a
narrow bridge a stranger who refused to make way for
him; Irritated by what he considered the man's insolence,

244 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

Robin seized his quarter-staff, only to find that his an-
tagonist more than matched him in the skilful use of this
weapon. Then a misstep suddenly toppled Robin over into
the stream, where he might have perished had not some
of his men leaped out of the thicket to his rescue. Vexed
at being beaten at quarter-staff, Robin now proposed a
shooting-match, and, his good humor entirely restored by
winning a victory in this contest, he promptly enrolled the
stranger in his band. His merry companions, on learning
the huge new-comer was John Little, ironically termed
him Little John, by which name he became very famous.

Baffled in his attempts to secure Robin and unable to
find any one near there to serve a warrant upon him, the
sheriff hired a Lincoln tinker, who, entering an inn, loudly
boasted how cleverly he was going to accomplish his task.
Among his listeners was the outlaw, who enticed the tinker
to drink, and made him so drunk that he had no difficulty
in stealing his warrant.

The tinker, on awaking, was furious, and, coming face
to face with Robin soon after, attacked him fiercely. Seeing
his opponent was getting the better of him, Robin blew
his horn, whereupon six of his men appeared to aid him.
Awed by the sudden appearance of these men, — ^who were
all clad in Lincoln green, — ^the tinker laid down his cudgel
and humbly begged permission to join the band.

The baffled sheriff now rode off to London to complain,
but, when Henry heard one of his officers could not capture
an outlaw, he indignantly bade him leave the court and
not appear there again until he had secured Robin. Dis-
mayed at having incurred royal displeasure, the sheriff
concluded to accomplish by stratagem what he had failed
to compass by force. He therefore proclaimed a shooting-
match, and, feeling sure Robin would be among the com-
petitors for the prize, posted a number of men to watch for
and arrest him. These sleuths recognized all the contest-
ants present, except a dark man, with a patch over one
eye, who did not in the least resemble the fair-haired, hand-
some Robin. Although one-eyed, the stranger easily bore

ROBIN HOOD 245

away the prize, and, when the sheriff offered to take him
iLto his service, curtly rejoined no man should ever be his
master. But that evening, in a secret glade in Sherwood
Forest, Robin gleefully exhibited to his followers the golden
arrow he had won, and, doffing his patch, remarked that
the walnut stain, which had transformed a fair man into a
dark one, would soon wear off.

Still, not satisfied with outwitting the sheriff, Robin,
anxious to apprise him of the fact, wrote a message on an
arrow, which he boldly shot into the hall where his enemy
was seated at a banquet. Enraged by this impudence, the
sheriff sent out three hundred men to scour the forest, and
Robin and his men were forced to hide.

Weary of inlaction, Robin finally bade Will Stutely re-
eonnoiter, report what the sheriff was doing, and see whether
it would be safe for him and his men to venture out.
Garbed as a monk. Will Stutely sought the nearest iim,
where he was quietly seated when some of the sheriff's
men came in. The outlaw was listening intently to their
plans when a cat, rubbing against him, pushed aside his
frock, and thus allowed the constable a glimpse of Lincoln
green beneath its folds. To arrest the outlaw was but the
matter of a moment, and Will Stutely was led off to prison
and execution, while a friendly bar-maid hastened off se-
cretly to the forest to warn Robin of his friend's peril.

Determined to save Will from the gallows at any risk,
Robin immediately set out with four of his best men and
let them mingle among the people assembled near the gal-
lows. Although disguised, the outlaws were immediately
recognized by Will when he arrived with the sheriff. Press-
ing forward as if to obtain a better view of the execution,
the outlaws contrived to annoy their neighbors so sorely
that a fight ensued, and, in the midst of the confusion. Little
John, slipping close up to the prisoner, cut his bonds,
knocked down the sheriff, and escaped with all the band!

Life in the forest sometimes proved too monotonous to
suit Robin, who once purchased from a butcher his horse,
cart, and meat, and drove off boldly to Nottingham Fair.

246 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

There he lustily cried Ms wares, atmouneing churchmen
would have to pay double, aldermen cost price, housewives
less, and pretty girls nothing save a kiss! The merry
vender's methods of trading soon attracted so many female
customers that the other butchers became angry, but, deem-
ing Kobin a mere simpleton, invited him to a banquet, where
they determined to take advantage of him.

The sheriff — ^who was present — blandly inquired of the
butcher whether he had any cattle for sale, and arranged
to meet him in the forest and pay 300 crowns in cash for
500 homed heads. But, when the gullible sheriff reached
the tiysting-spot, he was borne captive to Robin's camp,
where the chief, mockingly pointing out the king's deer,
bade him take possession of five hundred horned heads!
Then he invited the sheriff to witness games exhibiting the
outlaws' strength and skill, and, after relieving him of his
money, allowed him to depart unharmed.

More determined than ever to obtain revenge, the
sheriff again proclaimed an archery contest, which Robin
shunned. Little John, however, put in an appearance,
won all the prizes, and even accepted the sheriff's offer
to serve him. But, living on the fat of the land in the
sheriff's household. Little John grew fat and lazy, quar-
relled with the other servants, and finally departed with
his master's cook and his silver!

Robin, although delighted to acquire a new follower,
hotly reiriled his companion for stealing the silver, where-
upon Little John declared the sheriff had given it to him
and volunteered to produce him to confirm his words. He
therefore set out, and waylaid his late employer, who,
thinking himself under the protection of one of his own
men, innocently followed him to the outlaws' camp. When
brought thus suddenly face to face with Robin, the sheriff
expected to be robbed or killed, but, after ascertaining the
silver was not a free gift, Robin gave it back to him and
let him go.

Angry because Robin often twitted him with his stout-
ness, Little John once wandered off by himself in the forest,

ROBIN HOOD 247

and meeting Arthur a Bland challenged him to fight, little
suspecting Robin was watching them from a neighboring
thicket. From this hiding-place the chief of the outlaws
witnessed Little John's defeat, and, popping out as soon as
the fight was over, invited Arthur a Bland to join his band.
The three men next continued their walk, until they met a
' ' rose-leaf, whipped-cream" youth, ' ' of whose modish attire
and effeminate manners they made unmerciful fun. Boast-
fully informing his two companions he was going to show
them how a quarter-staff should be handled, Robin chal-
lenged the stranger, who, suddenly dropping his affected
manners, snatched a stake from the hedge and proceeded
to outfence Robin. In his turn Little John had a chance
to laugh at his leader's discomfiture, and Robin, on learning
his antagonist was his nephew (who had taken refuge in
the forest because he had accidentally killed a man), in-
vited him to join his merry men.

Soon after Little John was despatched for food,
and the outlaws were enjoying a jolly meal "under the
greenwood tree," when a miller came trudging along with
a heavy bag of flour. Crowding around him, the outlaws
demanded his money, and, when he exhibited an empty
purse, Robin suggested his money was probably hidden in
the meal and sternly ordered him to produce it without
delay, i&rumbling about his loss, the miller opened his sack,
began to fumble in the meal, and, when all the outlaws were
bending anxiously over it, flung a double handful of flour
right into their eyes, thus blinding them temporarily. Had
not other outlaws now rushed out of the thicket, the miller
would doubtless have effected his escape, but the new
arrivals held him fast until Robin, charmed with his ready
wit, invited him to become an outlaw too.

Some time after this, Robin, Will Scarlet, and Little
John discovered the minstrel Allan a Dale weeping in the
forest because his sweetheart, fair Ellen, was compelled by
her father to marry a rich old squire. Hearing this tale
and sympathizing with the lovers, Robin engaged to unite
them, provided he could secure a priest to tie the knot.

248 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

When told Friar Tuck would surely oblige him, Robia
started out in quest of him, and, finding him under a tree,
feasting alone and toasting himself, he joined in his merry
meal. Then, under the pretext of saving his fine clothes
from a wetting, Eobin persuaded the friar to carry him
pick-a-back across a stream. While doing so, the friar
stole Eobin 's sword, and refused to give it back unless
the outlaw carried him back. Following Friar Tuck's ex-
ample, Eobin slyly purloined something from him, and
exacted a new ride across the river, during which Friar
Tuck tumbled him over into the water. Robin, who had
hitherto taken his companion's pleasantries good-naturedly,
got angry and began a fight, but soon, feeling he was about
to be worsted, he loudly summoned his men. Friar Tuck
in return whistled for his dogs, which proved quite formid-
able enough opponents to induce the outlaws to beg for a
truce.

Eobin now secured Friar Tuck to celebrate Allan's
marriage and laid clever plans to rescue Ellen from an
unwelcome bridegroom. So aU proceeded secretly or openly
to the church where the marriage was to take place. Pre-
tending to be versed in magic, Eobin swore to the
ecclesiastics present that, if they would only give him the
jewels they wore, he would guarantee the bride should love
the bridegroom. Just as the reluctant Ellen was about to
be united to the rich old squire by these churchmen, Robin
interfered, and (the angry bridegroom having flounced out
of church), bribed the father to allow Friar Tuck to unite
Ellen and Allan a Dale. Because the bride undoubtedly
loved her spouse, Robin claimed the jewels promised him,
and bestowed them upon the happy couple, who adopted
Sherwood Forest for their home.

Weary of the same company, Robin once despatched his
men into the forest with orders to arrest any one they met
and bring him to their nightly banquet. Robin himself
sallied out too, and soon met a dejected knight, who de-
clared he felt too sad to contribute to the outlaw's amuse-
ment. When Robin questioned him in regard to his de-

ROBIN HOOD 249

jection, Sir Richard of the Lee explained that his son, hav-
ing accidentally wounded his opponent in a tournament,
had been obliged to pay a fine of £600 in gold and make
a pilgrimage to Palestine. To raise the money for the fine,
the father had mortgaged his estates, and was now about
to be despoiled of them by the avaricious prior of Emmet,
who demanded an immediate payment of £400 or the estate.

Robin, ever ready to help the poor and sorrowful, bade
the knight cheer up and promised to discover some way
to raise the £400. Meantime Little John and Friar
Tuck — ^who had joined Robin's band — caught the Bishop
of Hereford, travelling through the forest with a train of
pack horses, one of which was laden with an iron-bound
chest. After entertaining these forced guests at dinner,
Robin had them witness his archers' skill and listen to
Allan a Dale's music, ere he set forth the knight's predica/-
ment and appealed to the bishop to lend him the necessary
money. When the bishop loudly protested he would do so
gladly had he funds, Robin ordered his baggage examined
and divided into three equal shares, one for the owner,
one for his men, and one for the poor.

Such was the value of the third set aside for the poor
that Robin could lend Sir Richard £500. Armed with
this money — ^which he promised to repay within a year
— Sir Richard presented himself before the prior of Emmet,
who had hired the sheriff and a lawyer to help him despoil
the knight with some show of law and justice. It was
therefore before an august board of three villains that Sir
Richard knelt begging for time wherein to pay his debt.
Virtuously protesting he would gladly remit a himdred
pounds for prompt payment— so great was his need of
money— the prior refused to wait, and his claim was duly
upheld by lawyer and sheriff. Relinquishing his humble
position. Sir Richard then defiantly produced 300 pounds,
which he forced the prior to accept in full payment ! Soon
after, the happy knight was able to repay Robin's loan,
and gratefully bestowed fine bows and arrows on all the
outlaws.

250 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

Little John, garbed as a friar, once set out for a neigh-
boring fair, and, meeting three pretty girls with baskets
of eggs, gallantly offered to carry their loads. When merrily
challenged to carry all three. Little John cleverly slung
one basket around his neck by means of his rosary, and
marched merrily along carrying the two others and singing
at the top of his lungs, while one of the girls beat time with
his staff.

On approaching town. Little John restored the baskets
to their owners, and, assuming a sanctimonious bearing,
joined two brothers of Fountains Abbey, whom he implored
to give him a little money. Because they turned a deaf
ear to his request. Little John went with them, acting so
strangely that he annoyed them sorely. Seeing this, he
declared he would leave them if they would only give him
two pennies, whereupon they rejoined they had no more
than that for their own needs. Crying he would perform
a miracle. Little John plumped down upon his big knees
in the middle of the road and loudly intreated St. Dunstan
to put money iu their purses. Then jumping up, he seized
their bags, vowing that anything above a penny was clearly
his, since it was obtained through his prayers !

Eobin, longing for a little variety, once met a beggar
with whom he exchanged garments. Soon after, meeting
four other mendicants, Robin joined them, and having
gotten into a quarrel with them had the satisfaction of
routing all four. A little later he met an usurer, whom
he gradually induced to reveal the fact that he had never
lost his money because he always carried his fortune iu the
thick soles of his shoes. Of course Robin immediately com-
pelled the usurer to remove his foot-gear, and sent him
home barefoot, while he rejoined his men and amused them
with a detailed account of the day's adventures.

Queen Eleanor, having heard endless merry tales about
Robin Hood, became very anxious to meet him, and finally
sent one of her pages to Sherwood Forest to inform Robin
the king had wagered his archers would win all the prizes
in the royal shooting-match. Because she had wagered the

ROBIN HOOD 251

contrary, she promised Robin a safe-conduct for himself
and his men if he would only come to court and display
his skill.

Choosing Will Scarlet, Little John, and Allan a Dale
as his companions, Robin attended the tournament and won
all the prizes, to the great disgust of the king, the sheriff,
and the Bishop of Hereford, which latter recognized the
hated outlaw. On discovering the king would not respect
the safe-conduct she had given Robin, Eleanor sent him
word: "The lion growls; beware of thy head." This hint
was suflScient to make Robin leave immediately, bidding his
companions reenter the forest by different roads and re-
serving the most difficult for himself.

Although Robin's men reached the forest safely, he him-
self was hotly pursued by the sheriff's and bishop's troops.
Once, when they were so close on his heels that it seemed
impossible for him to escape, Robin exchanged garments
with a cobbler, who was promptly arrested in his stead and
borne off to prison. Such was Robin's exhaustion by this
time that he entered an inn, and, creeping into bed, slept
so soundly that only on awaking on the morrow did he
discover he had shared his bed with a monk. Slyly sub-
stituting the cobbler's garments for those of the sleeping
monk, Robin peacefully departed, while the sheriff's men,
having discovered their mistake, proceeded to arrest the
false cobbler ! Meantime the Queen succeeded iu softening
the king's resentment, so Robin was allowed to rejoin his
companions, and his sweetheart, Maid Marian, who could
shoot nearly as well as he.

Many years now elapsed, during which King Henry
died and King Richard came to the throne. Robin, still
pursued by the sheriff, once discovered in the forest a man
clad in horse-skin, who, having been an outlaw too, had been
promised his pardon if he would slay Robin. Hearing him
boast about what he would do, Robin challenged him first
to a trial of marksmanship, and then to a bout of sword
play, during which the strange outlaw was slain. Then,

252 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

donning the fallen man's strange apparel, Eobin went oflf
to Nottingham in quest of more adventures.

Meantime, Little John had entered a poor hut, where he
found a woman weeping because her sons had been seized
as poachers and sentenced to be hanged. Touched by her
grief. Little John promised to rescue them if she would
only supply him with a disguise. Dressed in a suit which
had belonged to the woman's husband, he entered Not-
tingham just as the sheriff was escorting his captives to
the gallows. No hangman being available, the sheriff gladly
hired the stranger to perform that office. While ostensibly
fastening nooses around the three lads' necks. Little John
cleverly whispered directions whereby to escape. This part
of his duty done. Little John strung his bow, arguing it
would be a humane act to shorten their agony by a well-
directed shaft. But, as soon as his bow was properly strung,
Little John gave the agreed signal, and the three youths
scampered off, he covering their retreat by threatening to
kill any one who attempted to pursue them.

The angry sheriff, on perceiving Robin, who just then
appeared, deeming bim the man he sent into the forest,
demanded some token that he had done his duty. In reply
Robin silently exhibited his own sword, bugle, and bow,
and pointed to his blood-stained clothes. The officers hav-
ing meantime captured Little John, the sheriff allowed
Robin — as a reward — to hang his companion. By means
of the same stratagem as Little John employed for the
rescue of the youths, Robin saved his beloved mate, and,
when the sheriff started to pursue them, blew such a blast
on his horn that the terrified official galloped away, one
of Robin's arrows sticking in his back.

Two months after, there was great excitement in Not-
tingham, because King Richard was to ride through the
town. The gay procession of knights, pages, and soldiers
was viewed with delight by all the people, among whom
Robin's outlaws were thickly dotted. Riding beside the
king, the Sheriff of Nottingham paled on recognizing in
the crowd Robin himself, a change of color which did not

ROBIN HOOD 253

escape Richard's eagle eye. When the conversation turned
upon the famous outlaw at the banquet that evening, and
sheriff and bishop bitterly declared Robia could not be cap-
tured, Richard exclaimed he would gladly give a hundred
pounds for a glimpse of so extraordinary a man ! There-
upon one of the guests rejoined he could easily obtain it
by entering the forest in a monk's garb, a suggestion which
so charmed the Lion-hearted monarch that he started out
on the morrow with seven cowled men. They had not ridden
far into the forest before they were arrested by a man in
Lincoln green — ^Robin himself — ^who conducted them to the
outlaw's lair.

As usual, the chance guests were entertained with a
feast of venison and athletic games, in the course of which
Robin declared he would test the skiU of his men, and that
aJl who missed the bull's-eye should be punished by a
buffet from Little John's mighty fist. Strange to relate,
eveiy man failed and was floored by Little John's blow,
the rest roaring merrily over his discomfiture. All his
men having tried and failed, Robin was asked to display
his own skill for the stranger's benefit, and, when he too
shot at random, all loudly clamored he must be punished
too. Hoping to escape so severe a blow as Little John
dealt, Robin declared it was not fitting a chief should be
struck by his men, and offered to take his punishment at
his guest's hands. Richard, not sorry to take his revenge,
now bared a niuscular arm, and hit poor Robin so heartily
that the outlaw measured his fuU length on the ground
and lay there some time wondering what had occurred.

Just then Sir Richard's son rushed into the outlaw's
camp, breathlessly crying the king had left Nottingham and
was scouring the forest to arrest them. Throwing back his
cowl Richard sternly demanded how one of his nobles dared
reveal his plans to his foes, whereupon the young knight,
kneeling before his monarch, explained how Robin had saved
his father from ruin.

Richard, whose anger was a mere pretence, now in-
formed Robin he should no longer be persecuted, and pro-

254 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

posed that he, Little John, Will Scarlet, and Allan a Dale
should enter his service. The rest of the outlaws were
appointed game-keepers in the royal forests, a life which
suited them admirably.

After spending the night in the camp of the outlaws,
Richard rode away with his new followers, and we are told
Robin Hood served him to such good purpose that he soon
earned the title of Earl of Huntington. Shortly after
Richard's death, Robin, seized with a longing for the
wild free life of his youth, revisited Sherwood Forest,
where the first blast of his huntiag-hom gathered a score
of his old followers about him. Falling at his feet and
kissing his hands, they so fervently besought him never
to leave them again that Robin promised to remain in the
forest, and did so, although King John sent for him sundry
times and finally ordered the sheriff to arrest him.

By this time Robiu was no longer a yoiing man, so life
in the open no longer proved as delightful as of yore.
Seized with a fever which he could not shake off, Robin
finally dragged himself to the priory of Kirk Lee, where
he besought the prioress to bleed him. Either because she
was afraid to defy the king or because she owed Robin a
personal grudge, this lady opened an artery instead of a
vein, and, locking the door of his room, left him there to
bleed to death. The iinsuspecting Robin patiently awaited
her return, and, when he finally realized his plight and
tried to summon aid, he was able to blow only the faintest
call upon his horn. This proved enough, however, to sum-
mon Little John, who was lurking in the forest near by,
for he dashed toward the priory, broke open the door, and
forced his way into the turret-chamber, where he found
poor Robin nearly gone.

At his cries, the prioress hastened to check the bleeding
of Robin's wound, but too late! Faintly whispering he
would never hunt in the forest again, Robin begged Little
John string his bow, and raise him up so he could shoot
a last arrow out of the narrow window, adding that he
wished to be buried where that arrow fell. Placing the

THE FAERIE QUEENE 255

bow in Robin's hand, Jjittle John supported his dying
master while he sent his last arrow to the foot of a mighty
oak, and "something sped from that body as the winged
arrow sped from the bow," for it was only a corpse Little
John laid down on the bed !

At dawn on the morrow six outlaws bore their dead
leader to a grave they had dug beneath the oak, above
which was a stone which bore this inscription :

Here underneath this little stone
Lies Robin, Earl of Huntington,
None there was as he so good.
And people called him Robin Hood.
Such outlaws as he and his men
Will England never see again.

Died December 24th, 1247.

THE FAERIE QUEENE

Edmund Spenser, who was born in London in 1552
and lived at Dublin as clerk to the court of Chancery, there
wrote the Faerie Queene, of which the first part was pub-
lished in 1589 and dedicated to Elizabeth. In this poem he
purposed to depict the twelve moral virtues in twelve suc-
cessive books, each containing twelve cantos, written in
stanzas of eight short lines and one long one. But he com-
pleted only six books of his poem in the course of six years.

The Faerie Queene is not only an epic but a double a)i>'Jtl<^
allegory, for many of the characters represent both abstract {^liftf^T^
virtues and tl^e noted people of Spenser's time. For in-
stance, the poem opens with a description of the court of
Gloriana, — ^who impersonates Elizabeth and is the champion
of Protestantism. As queen of the fairy realm she holds
annual festivals, in one of which the young peasant Georges
enters her haU. He kneels before her so humbly yet so
courteously that, notwithstanding his rustic garb, she per-
ceives he must be of noble birth. When he, therefore,
craves as a boon the next adventure, Gloriana grants his
request, on condition that he will serve her afterward for
six years.

256 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

Shortly after, a beautiful lady, garbed in white but
enveloped in a black mantle, rides up to court on a snow-
white ass, leading a wooUy lamb. She is followed by a
dwarf, who conducts a war-steed, on which are piled all
the arms of a knight. On approaching Gloriana, Una — the
personification of Truth — explains that her royal parents
are besieged in their capital by a dragon, which has slain
aU the warriors who have ventured to attack him.

On hearing Una beg for aid, Georgos eagerly steps
forward to claim the task. Ill pleased to be given a peasant
instead of the knight she was seeking, Una coldly bids
Georgos — ^the personification of Holiness — ^try on the armor
she has brought, adding that, unless it fits him exactly,
he need not expect to triumph. But no sooner has the
youth donned the armor which the dwarf produces than
all recognize with wonder it must have been made for
him, and Gloriana publicly dubs him "Knight of the Eed
Cross," because the armor Una brought bears that device.

Vaulting on his war-steed, Georgos now rides off with
Una and the dwarf, and after crossing a wilderness enters
a forest, where before long he descries the mouth of a cave,
into which he feels impelled to enter. No sooner has he
done so than he encounters a dragon, — ^the personification
of Heresy and Error, — ^which attacks him with fury. A
frightful battle ensues, in the course of which the Eed
Cross Knight is about to be worsted, when Una's encour-
agements so stimulate him that he slays the monster.

On seeing the exhaustion of her companion, Una realizes
he wiU require rest before undertaking further adventures,
and therefore eagerly accepts an invitation tendered by a
venerable old hermit who meets them. He leads them to
his cell, where, after entertaining them all evening by
pious eonvereation, he dismisses them to seek rest. His
guests have no sooner vanished than the hermit, Archimago,
— a personification of Hypocrisy, — casts aside his disguise,
and summons two demons, one of whom he despatches to
Hades to fetch a dream from the cave of Morpheus. This
dream is to whisper to the sleeping Red Cross Knight that

THE FAERIE QUEENE 257

Una is not as innocent as she seems, while the other demon,
transformed into her very semblance, is to delude the
knight on awakening into believing his companion beneath
contempt. This plot is duly carried out, and the Red
Cross Knight shocked by the behavior of the sham Una
departs immediately, bidding the dwarf follow him. Rid-
ing along in a state of extreme disgust and irritation, the
Red Cross Knight soon encounters Sansfoi,— Faithlessness,
— accompanied by a lady clad in red, who is Duessa, — a per-
sonification of Mary Queen of Scots, and also of false-
hood and popery. The two knights immediately run
against each other, and, when Georgos has slain his oppo-
nent, the lady beseeches him to spare her life, exclaiming
her name is Fidessa and that she is only too glad to be saved
from the cruel Sansfoi. Deluded by her words and looks,
the Red Cross Knight invites her to accompany him, prom-
ising to defend her from her foes.

They are riding along together amicably, when the
knight plucks a blossoming twig to weave a garland for
his companion, and is dismayed to see blood trickle from
the broken stem. Questioning the tree from whence the
branch was taken, Georgos learns that a knight and his
wife have been transformed into plants by Duessa, who
does not wish them to escape from her thraldom. During
this explanation, Georgos fails to notice that the lady in
red trembles for fear her victims may recognize her, nor
does he mark her relief when she perceives her present
disguise is so effective that no one suspects she worked
this baleful transformation.

Riding on once more, the Red Cross Knight and his
companion next draw near to a glittering castle, whose
stones seem covered with gold. Fidessa, who is familiar
with this place, invites the knight to enter there with her ;
and Georgos, unaware of the fact that this is the stronghold
of Pride, not only consents, but pays respectful homage to
the mistress of the castle. Queen Lucifera, whose attend-
ants are Idleness, Gluttony, Lechery, Envy, Avarice, and
Wrath. It is while sojourning in this castle that the Red

17

258 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

Cross Knight one day sees Sansjoi (Joyless) snatch from his
dwarf the shield won from Sansfoi. Angered by this deed
of violence, Georgos draws his sword, and he would have
decided the question of ownership then and there had not
Lueifera decreed he and his opponent should settle their
quarrel in the lists on the morrow. During the ensuing
night, Duessa secretly informs Sansjoi that the Eed Cross
Knight is his brother's slayer and promises that, should
he defeat his opponent, she wiU belong to him forever.
On the morrow, in the midst of much feudal pomp, the
chivalrous duel takes place, and — although Duessa, fancy-
ing Sansjoi is about to win, loudly cheers him — ^the Eed
Cross Knight finally triumphs. Planting his foot upon his
foe, Georgos would have ended Sansjoi 's life had not Duessa
enveloped her proteg6 in a cloud dense enough to hide him
from his conqueror. After vainly seeking some trace of
his vanished opponent, the Bed Cross Knight is proclaimed
victor, and goes back to the castle to nurse the wounds he
has received.

Meanwhile Duessa steals into the deserted lists, removes
the pall of cloud which envelops Sansjoi, and tenderly
confides him to the Queen of Night, who bears him down
to Hades, where Aesculapius heals his wounds. His victor,
the Red Cross Knight, has not entirely recovered from this
duel, when the dwarf rushes into his presence to report
that while prowling around the castle he discovered a fright-
ful dungeon, where men and women are imprisoned. When
he declares they are sojourning in a wicked place, the Red
Cross Knight springs out of bed and, helped by his attend-
ant, hastens away from a spot which now inspires him with
unspeakable horror.

They have barely issued from the castle walls before
Georgos realizes he has been the victim of some baleful
spell, for he now perceives that the building rests on a
sand foundation and is tottering to its fall, while the
pomp which so dazzled him at first is merely outside show
and delusion. He is not aware, however, that Fidessa has
beguiled him, since he openly regrets she is not present

THE FAERIE QUEENE 259

to escape with him, and he again bewails the fact that Una
was not as pure as his fancy painted !

Meanwhile, returning to the castle to rejoin her victim,
t)uessa finds the Red Cross Knight gone, spurs after him,
and on overtaking him gently reproaches him for abandon-
ing her in such a place ! Then she entices him to rest by a
fountain, whose bewitched waters deprive the drinker of
aU strength. She herself offers Georgos a draught from
this fountain, and, after he has drunk thereof, the giant
Orgolio spurs out of the forest and, attacking him with a
mighty club, lays him low and bears him off to his dungeon,
to torture him the rest of his life. Meantime Duessa humbly
follows the giant, promising him her love, while the dwarf,
who has watched the encounter from afar, sorrowfully col-
lects his master's armor and, piling it hastily on his steed,
rides off in quest of help.

Meanwhile the real Una, on awakening in the hermitage
to learn that the Red Cross Knight and the dwarf have
gone, rides after them as fast as her little white ass can
trot. Of course her attempt to overtake her companions
is vain, and after travelling a long distance she dismounts
in a forest to rest. Suddenly she is almost paralyzed with
fear, for a roaring lion bursts through the thicket to devour
her. Still, in fairy-land wild beasts cannot harm kings'
daughters, provided they are pure, so the .lion — ^the per-
sonification of CburageT-not only spares Una, but humbly
licks her feet, and accompanies her as watch-dog when she
resumes her journey. They two soon reach the house of
Superstition, an old woman, whose daughter. Stupidity,
loves a" robber of churches. When this lover attempts to
visit her secretly by night, he is slain by the lion ; where-
upon the two women angrily banish Una. She is therefore
again wandering aimlessly in the forest when Archimago
meets her in the guise of the Red Cross Knight, for he
wishes her to believe he is her missing champion. On per-
ceiving the lion, however, the magician approaches Una
cautiously, but the fair maiden, suspecting no fraud, joy-

260 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

fully runs to meet Mm, declaring she has missed him
terribly.

They two have not proceeded far before they encounter
Sansloi,—Lawlessness,:— brother of the two knights with
whom Georgos recently fought. Anxious to avenge their
death, this new-comer boldly charges at the wearer of the
Red Cross. Although terrified at the mere thought of an
encounter, Arehimago is forced to lower his lance in self-
defence, but, as he is no expert, he is overthrown at the
first blow. Springing down from his steed, Sansloi sets
his foot upon his fallen foe and tries to remove his helmet
so as to deal him a deadly blow. But no sooner does he
behold the crafty lineaments of Arehimago in place of those
of the Red Cross EJiight, than he contemptuously abandons
his opponent to recover his senses at leisure, and starts
off in pursuit of Una, whose beauty has charmed his lustful
eye.

In a vain endeavor to protect his mistress, the lion
next loses his life, and Sansloi, plucking the shrieking Una
from her ass, flings her across his palfrey and rides off into
the forest, followed by the little steed, which is too faith-
ful to forsake its mistress. On arriving in the depths of
the forest, Sansloi dismounts, but Una's cries attract a
company of fauns and satyrs, whose uncanny faces inspire
Sansloi with such terror that he flees, leaving his captive in
their power. Notwithstanding their strange appearance,
these wild men are essentially chivalrous, for they speedily
assure Una no harm shall befall her in their company. In
return she instructs them in regard to virtue and truth,
until Sir Satyrane appears, who generously volunteers to
go with her in search of the Red Cross Knight.

Those two have not ridden far together before they en-
counter a pilgrim, who reports the Red Cross Knight has
just been slain in a combat by a knight who is now quench-
ing his thirst at a neighboring fountain. Following this
pilgrim's directions. Sir Satyrane soon overtakes the re-
ported slayer of Georgos, and while they two struggle to-
gether, the terrified Una flees into the forest, closely pur-

THE FAERIE QUEENE 261

sued by the pilgrim, Archimago ia a new disguise. Mean-
time the fight continues until Sansloi, severely wounded,
beats a retreat, leaving Sir Satyrane too injured to follow
Una. She, however, has meantime overtaken her dwarf,
and learned from him that the Eed Cross Knight is a pris-
oner of Orgolio. Thereupon she vows not to rest until she
has rescued her companion. She and her dwarf are hasten-
ing in the direction in which the giant vanished with his
victim, when they meet.£iiac£LiiXthjUf, — a personification
of JLeicester and of Chivalry,; — who, although he has never
yet seen the Fairy Queen, is so deeply in love with her
that he does battle in her name whenever he can. This
prince is incased in a magic armor, made by Merlin, and
bears a shield fashioned from a single diamond, whose
brightness is so dazzling that it has to be kept covered, so
as not to blind all beholders.

After courteously greeting Una, the prince, hearing her
tale of woe, volunteers to accompany her and free the Eed
Cross Knight. When they reach the castle of Orgolio, —
Spiritual Pride, — ^Arthur and his squire boldly summon the
owner to come out and fight. No answer is at first vouch-
safed them, but after a blast from Arthur's magic bugle the
gates burst open, and out of the stronghold rushes a seven-
headed dragon, bearing on its back the witch Duessa. This
monster is closely followed by the giant Orgolio, who en-
gages in fight with Prince Arthur, while the squire, Timias,
directs his efforts against the seven-headed beast. Although
the prince and his attendant finally overcome these terrible
foes, their triumph is due to the fact that in the midst of
the fray Prince Arthur's shield is accidentally uncovered
and its brightness queUs both giant and beast. But no
sooner are the fallen pierced with the victors' swords than
they shrink to nothing, for they are mere wind-bags, or
delusions of Archimago 's devising.

On seeing the triumph won by her champions, Una con-
gratulates them, and bids the squire pursue Duessa, who
is now trying to escape. Thus enjoined, Timias seizes the
witch, and, in obedience to Una's orders, strips her of her

THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

fine clothes and sends her forth in her original loathsome
shape. Meantime Una and the prince boldly penetrate
into the castle, and, passing hurriedly through rooms over-
flowing with treasures, reach a squalid dungeon, where
they discover the Ked Cross Knight almost starved to death.
Pull of compassion they bear him to comfortable quarters,
where they proceed to nurse him back to health ; and, when
he is once more able to ride, he and Una resume their
journey. As they proceed, however, Una becoming aware
that her champion is not yet strong enough to do battle,
conducts him to a house, where the wise old matron Re-
ligion, Doctor Patience, and three handmaidens, Faith,
Hope, and Charity, nurse him to such good purpose that
Georgos is soon stronger than ever. During his convales-
cence in this hospitable abode, the Red Cross Knight once
wanders to the top of the hill of Contemplation, whence
he is vouchsafed a vision of the New Jerusalem, and where
he encounters an old man who prophesies that after ful-
filling his present quest he wiU be known as ' ' Saint George
of Merry England." Modestly deeming himself unworthy
of such distinction, the Red Cross Knight objects that a
ploughman's son should not receive such honor, until the
aged man informs him he is in reality the son of the British
king, stolen from his cradle by a wicked fairy, who, finding
him too heavy to carry, dropped him in a field where a
farmer discovered and adopted him. Notwithstanding this
rustic breeding it was Georgos ' noble blood that ui^ed him
to seek adventures, and sent him to Gloriana's court, whence
he sallied forth on his present quest.

After another brief sojourn in the house of Religion,
the Red Cross Knight and Una again set forth, and passing
through another wilderness reach a land ravaged and be-
fouled by the dragon which holds Una's parents in durance
vile. The lady is just pointing out her distant home to
the Red Cross Knight, when she hears the dragon coming,
and, bidding her champion fight him bravely, takes refuge
in a cave near by. Spurring forward to encounter his
opponent, the Red Cross Knight comes face to face with a

THE FAERIE QUEENE 263

hideous monster, sheathed in brazen scales and lashing a
tail that sweeps over acres at a time. This monster is
further provided with redoubtable iron teeth and brazen
claws, and breathes forth sulphur and other deadly fumes.

Notwithstanding his opponent's advantages, Georgos
boldly attacks him, only to find no weapon can pierce the
metal scales. At the end of the first day's fight, the dragon
withdraws, confident he will get the better of his foe on
the morrow. At the close of the second day, the monster's
tail whisks Georgos into a pool, whose waters fortunately
prove so healing that this bath washes away every trace
of weakness and restores him to health and strength. On
the third day's encounter, the Red Cross Knight manages
to run his sword into the dragon's mouth, and thus inflicts
a deadly wound. Seeing her foe writhing at last in the
agonies of death, Una joyfully emerges from her hiding-
place, while the watchman on the castle tower loudly pro-
claims that they are free at last !

The poet vividly describes the relief of Una's parents
on being able to emerge from their castle once more, and
their joy on embracing the daughter who has effected their
rescue. The castle inmates not only load Una with praise,
but escort her and her champion back to their abode, where
their marriage takes place amid general rejoicings. But,
although the Red Cross Knight would fain linger by Una,
he remembers his promise to serve Gloriana for six years,
and sets out immediately to redress other wrongs.

BOOK II. THE LEGEND OF SIR GUTON, OE OP TEMPERANCE

The next adventure in the Faerie Queene is that of ..^
GuYon. — personifying Temperance, — who is escorted every-
where by a black-garbed palmer.-^Pnidenee or Abstinence,
— at whose dictation he performs all manner of heroic deeds.
Journeying together they soon meet a squire, who reports
a lady has just been captured by a wicked knight, who is
bearing her away. On hearing of this damsel's peril. Sir
Guyon bids her squire lead them in the direction where she
vanished, declaring h? will save her if possible, He soon

264 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

encounters a maiden with dishevelled locks and torn gar-
ments, who delays him by informing him that she has been
illtreated by a knight bearing the device of a red cross.
Although loath to believe Georgos can be guilty of an un-
ehivalrie deed, Sir Guyon and the palmer promise to call
him to account as soon as they overtake him. They no
sooner do so, however, than he assures them Archimago in
his guise has been ranging through the forest, and that they
must have met Duessa. Turning to punish the lying squire
who led them astray, Sir Guyon now perceives he has van-
ished, and humbly begs pardon of the Red Cross Knight.

Shortly after. Sir Guyon is startled by loud shrieks,
and, hastening in the direction whence they proceed, dis-
covers a wounded lady and a dead knight. Close beside the
lady is a young babe, whose innocent hands are dabbling
in his parent's blood. On questioning the woman. Sir
Guyon learns that her husband has been bewitched by
Aerasia, — -or Pleasure, — ^who bore him off to the Bower of
Bliss, a place where she detains her captives, feeding them
on sweets until their manly courage is gone. On learning
her husband had fallen into the power of this enchantress,
the lady had sought theJBoffigr of Bliss and by dint of
wifely devotion had rescued her spouse. But, even as they
left, the witch bestowed upon them a magic cup, in which
little suspecting its evil powers, the wife offered water to
her husband. No sooner had he drunk than blood gushed
from his mouth and he died, whereupon, frantic at having
unwittingly slain the man she loved, the lady had dealt
herself a mortal wound with his sword.

Scarcely had the sufferer finished this account when
she sank back lifeless, so Sir Guyon and the palmer, after
burying the parents, vainly tried to remove the blood
stains from the infant's hands. Then, unable to care
properly for him themselves, they entrusted it to some
ladies in a castle near by, bidding them call the babe Ruddy
Main, or the Red Handed, and send him to court when he
had grown up.

Having thus provided for the orphan. Sir Guyon, whose

THE FAERIE QUEENE 265

horse and spear meanwhile have been purloined by Brag-
gadocchio, decides to recover possession of them, and to
seek the Bower of Bliss to slay the witch Aerasia, who has
caused such grievous harm. On this quest Sir Guyon and
the palmer encounter the madman Furor, and then reach
a stream which is too deep to ford. While they are seek-
ing some conveyance to bear them across, they perceive a
skiff rowed by a fair lady, Phaedria, — or Mirth. At their
call she pushes her boai close toThem^ biiit^o^ sooner has
Sir Guyon sprung aboard than she pushes off, leaving the
palmer behind in spite of all entreaties. Although impelled
neither by oars nor sails, Phaedria 's boat drifts rapidly
over the Idle Sea, and Sir Guyon, on questioning its owner,
learns they are bound for her magic realm.

They have scarcely touched the sedgy shores of a charm-
iag island, when a ruffian, ^mochleSj— or Decdt, — ^bursts
out of the thicket to claim the lady. Undaunted by the
size of his challenger. Sir Guyon attacks him, and the duel
might have proved fatal had not Phaedria cast herself be-
tween the champions, begging them not to quarrel in the
land of love and delight. Thereupon Sir Guyon hotly iu-
forms her he has no desire to slay Deceit or to claim her,
and, seeing she cannot make any impression upon him,
Phaedria angrily bids him reenter the boat, which soon
bears him to the place which he wished to reach.

Although still mourning the loss of his companion, the
palmer. Sir Guyon decides to continue his quest for the
Bower of Bliss. While passing through a dense thicket,
his attention is attracted by a clank of metal, and peering
through the branches he descries an old, dirt-encrusted man,
surrounded by mounds of precious stones and coins, which
keep droppiag through his fingers. This creature is Mam-
mon,— God of Wea,lth,— who is so busy counting his treas-
ures that at first he pays no heed to Sir Guyon. When
questioned, however, he boasts he is more powerful than
any potentate in the world, and tries to entice Sir Guyon
to enter into his service by promising him much gold. For
a moment Sir Guyon wavers, but finally decides not to

266 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

accept the offer until he has ascertained whether Mammon 's
riches have been honestly gained. To show whence he
draws them, the money-god now conveys Sir Guyon to the
bowels of the earth, and there lets him view his minions
mining gold, silver, and precious stones, and thus constantly
increasing his hoard. But, although sorely tempted, Sir
Guyon perceives that Mammon's workmen are oppressed
by Care and driven by ^Fjorce and Fraud, who keep them
constantly at work and never allow Sleep- to approach them.
This discovery makes him decide to have nothing to do with
Mammon's treasures, although he is led into a hall where
hosts of people are paying homage to the money king's
daughter, who, he is told, will be his bride if he will only
accept her father's offers. Coldly rejoining that his troth
is already plighted. Sir Guyon refuses, only to emerge from
this hall into a garden, through whose branches he catches
fleeting glimpses of the underworld. In one of its rivers
he even beholds Tantalus, undergoing torments from hunger
and thirst, in punishment for sins committed while on earth.

After being subjected for three days to all the tempta-
tions of the underworld. Sir Guyon is led back to the light
of day, where Mammon — ^who bitterly terms him a fool —
abandons him.

The story now returns to the palmer, who, after watch-
ing Sir Guyon out of sight, wanders along the stream in
quest of a vessel to follow his master. Several days later
he manages to cross, only to hear a silvery voice calling for
aid. Bursting through the thicket, he discovers Sir Guyon,
lying on the ground, watched over by a spirit of such
transcendent beauty that the palmer realizes it must be
an angel even before he notes- its diaphanous wings. This
ministering spirit assures the palmer that Sir Guyon will
soon recover, adding that although- unseen he will continue
to watch over him, and will help him to escape from all
the dangers along his path. Then the heavenly spirit van-
ishes, and, while the palmer is bending over the fainting
Sir Guyon, he sees two knights draw near, preceded by a
page and followed by an old man, These knights are Deceit

THE FAERIE QUEENE 267

md his^ brother, who have been brought hither by the old
man ArcEmago, to slay Sir Guyon whom they hate.

Drawing near, these ruffians thrust the palmer aside, but,
while they are stripping the unconscious man of his armor,
another knight suddenly draws near and attacks them.
One giant, being without a sword, seizes that of Sir Guyon,
although Arehimago warns him that as it once belonged
to his antagonist, it will never harm him.

Prince Arthur, for it is he, now overcomes the ruffians,
to whom he generously offers life, provided they will obey
him hereafter. But, when they refuse these terms, he
ruthlessly slays them, and their spirits flee shrieking "to
the land of eternal night."

At this moment Sir Guyon recovers his senses, and is
overjoyed to find the palmer beside him and to leam that
Prince Arthur, who rescued him from the ruffians, is not
far away.

After a brief rest, Prince Arthur and Sir Guyon de-
part together, the former explaining how anxious he is to
do anything in his power for Queen Gloriana, whom he
devotedly loves although he has never yet seen her. Con-
versing together, the two ride on to a castle, where no heed
is paid to their request for a night's lodging. They are
marvelling at such a discourtesy, when a head is thrust
over the battlement and a hoarse voice bids them flee,
explaining that the castle has been besieged for seven years
past by barbarians lurking in the forest, against whom no
knight has ever been able to prevail.

It is while the watchman is thus accounting for his in-
hospitality, that a rout of hungry barbarians bursts out of
the forest and attacks Sir Guyon and Prince Arthur, both
of whom fight to such good purpose that they utterly
annihilate their assailants. Happy to be delivered from
these foes, the inhabitants of the castle then open wide
their gates. Our knights spend several days there restrag
from their labors, and perusing sundry books where they
leam the history of aU the British kings. Meantime the
palmer, who has followed them thither, forges chains and

268 THE BOOK OP THE EPIC

a steel net, with which to capture and hold the witch
Acrasia when the right time comes. "When he has finished
manufacturing these objects, he persuades Sir Guyon to
start out once more. Reaching the water again, they board
a vessel, which bears them safely past the Magnetic Rock,
over the Sea of Gluttony, etc., to an island, whose beauty
htunan imagination cannot conceive.

On landing, the travellers are surprised to encounter
strange monsters, and to be enveloped in dense mists,
through which they hear the flapping of bat-like wings and
catch glimpses of harpy-like creatures. Knowing monsters
and mists are mere delusions. Sir Guyon pays little heed
to them, and the palmer soon disperses them by a touch
from his magic staff. Still bearing the steel net and iron
chains, this faithful henchman foUows Sir Guyon into the
enchanted bower of Acrasia, where he explains to his master
that the animals he sees owe their present forms to the
enchantress' power, for she always transforms her visitors
into beasts!

Through an ivory gate, — on which is carved the story
of "The Golden Fleece," — ^the adventurers enter a hall,
where a porter offers them wine. But Sir Guyon, knowing
a drop of it would have a baleful effect upon the drinker,
boldly dashes it out of his hand. Then, threading his way
through the Bower of Bliss, he reaches its innermost grove,
although Phaedria tries to detain him by offering him
sundry pleasures. Pressing onward. Sir Guyon finally
catches a glimpse of Acrasia herself, reposing upon a bed
of fiowers, and holding on Eer lap the head of an innocent
youth, who is helpless owing to her spell. Silently signalling
to the palmer. Sir Guyon spreads out the steel net, which
they fling so deftly over witch and victim that neither can
escape. Then Sir Guyon binds Acrasia fast, threatening
to kill her unless she removes the speU which she has laid
upon her captives. All the beasts on the island are there-
fore soon restored to their natural forms, and all profess
gratitude, save one, whom the palmer grimly bids continue
to be a pig, since such is his choice !

THE FAERIE QUEENE 269

Having thus happily achieved this quest, Sir Guyon
and the palmer leave the island with Acrasia, who is sent
under strong guard to the court of the Fairy Queen, where
Gloriana is to dispose of her according to her good pleasure.

BOOK in. THE STORY OP BRITOMABT, CHASTITY

Britomart, only child of King Ryence, had from earliest
childhood so longed to be a boy that, instead of devoting her
time to womanly occupations, she practised manly sports
until she became as expert a warrior as any squire in her
father's realm.

One day, while wandering in the palace, she discovered
in the treasure-room a magic mirror, fashioned by Merlin
for her father, wherein one could behold the secrets of the
future. Gazing into its crystal depths while wondering
whom she should ultimately marry, Britomart suddenly saw
a handsome knight, who bore a motto proclaiming that he
was _Six Artegall, the Champion jof, Justice and proud pos-
sessor of Achilles' armor. Scarcely had Britomart per-
ceived this much than the vision faded. But the princess
left the room, feeling that henceforth she would know no
rest until she had met her destined mate. When she con-
fided this vision to her nurse Glance, the worthy woman sug-
gested that they go and consult Merlin, wearing the garb
of men.

Early the next day, therefore, the two visited the
magician, who, piercing their disguise, declared he knew
who they were, and bade them ride forth as knight and
squire to meet the person they sought. Thus encouraged,
Britomart, wearing an Amazon's armor and bearing a
magic spear, set out on her quest, and met Prince Arthur
and Sir Guyon, just after Acrasia had been dispatched to
Gloriana 's court and while they were in quest of new
adventures.

Seeing a warrior approach. Sir Guyon immediately low-
ered his lance, but to his surprise was unhorsed by Brito-
mart's invincible spear. She was about to dismount to

270 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

despatcli her fallen foe with her sword, when the palmer
loudly bade his master crave mercy, seeing it was useless
to contend against magic weapons. Hearing this, Sir Guyon
surrendered, and he and Prince Arthur humbly offered to
escort Britomart, whom they naturally took for a powerful
knight.

They had not gone very far when they beheld at a dis-
tance a damsel dashing madly through the bushes, casting
fearful glances behind her, for she was closely pursued by
a grizzly forester. All their ohivalric instincts aroused.
Prince Arthur and his companions spurred hotly after the
distressed damsel, while Britomart and her nurse calmly
rode on, until they came to a castle, at whose gates one
knight was desperately fighting against six. Seeing this,
Britomart boldly rode to the rescue of the oppressed knight,
and fought beside him to such good purpose that they
defeated their assailants. Then, entering the castle, Brito-
mart and her nurse proceeded to care for their companion,
the Red Cross Knight, who had received serious wounds.

Although he had noticed in the midst of the conflict
that a golden curl had escaped from Britomart 's helmet and
fallen over her breast, and had thus discovered her sex,
he courteously ignored it until they were about to ride
away together, when he respectfully offered to serve as the
lady's protector and escort. Thereupon Britomart ex-
plained who she was, adding that she was in quest of Sir
Artegall, of whom she spoke rather slightingly, because
she did not wish her companion to know how deeply she
had fallen in love with a stranger. Judging from her tone
that she did not approve of Sir Artegall, the Red Cross
Knight hotly protested he was the noblest and most cour-
teous knight that had ever lived, which, of course, pleased
Britomart.

Meantime, Prince Arthur and Sir Guyon, with their
respective attendants, pursued the distressed damsel, riding
through thick and thin until they came to cross-roads. Not
knowing which path the fugitive had chosen, our heroes
decided to part and ride along separate ways. Thus, it was

THE FAERIE QUEENE 271

Prince Arthur who first caught a glimpse of the fugitive,
who still kept glancing backward as if afraid ; but, although
hs spurred on as fast as possible, he was not able to over-
take her, and had to pause at nightfall to rest. On resuming
his quest on the morrow, he soon encountered a dwarf, who
reported he was the servant of Lady PlorimeU, who had
fled from court five days ago on hearing a rumor that her
lover, Marinell, was slain. The poor damsel, while in quest
of her lover, had been seen and pursued by an ill-favored
forester, and the dwarf feared some harm might have be-
fallen her. To comfort this faithful henchman, Prince
Arthur promised to go with him and rescue the unhappy
damsel.

Meantime, undaunted by darkness, Florimell had ridden
on until her weary steed paused before a hut deep in the
woods. There she dismounted and humbly begged the old
witch who lived there to give her some food. Moved
by the distress of the stranger, the sorceress bade her
dry her garments at her fire, and while the lady was
sitting there the witch's son, a lazy worthless fellow, sud-
denly entered. To see Florimell was to love her, so the
uncouth rustic immediately began to court her with fruits
and flowers which he sought ia the forest. Fearing lest he
should molest her finally, Florimell escaped from the hut
on her palfrey, which she found in the witch's stable.

On awakening on the morrow to find their fair visitor
gone, the witch and her son were in such despair that they
let loose a vnld beast, which they owned, bidding him track
the missing girl. Before long, therefore, poor Florimell
heard this monster crashing through the forest. Terrified
at the thought of falling into its power, she urged her
steed toward the sea-shore, in hopes of finding a boat and
getting away. On reaching the water, she sprang off her
steed, and, seeing a little skiff near by, stepped into it and
pushed off, without securing the permission of the fisher-
man, who was sleeping at the bottom of the boat while his
nets were drying on the sand.

Barely were they out of reach when the beast rushed

272 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

down to the shore, pounced upon Plorimell's horse and de-
voured it. The monster was still occupied thus when Sir
Satyrane came riding along. He rashly concluded the beast
had devoured the rider too, a fear confirmed by the sight
of FlorimeU's girdle on the sand. Attacking the monster,
Sir Satyrane overcame and bound him fast with the girdle,
but he hadn't gone far, leading this reluctant captive, when
he spied a giantess bearing off an armed squire. In his
haste to overtake her and rescue a fellow-man. Sir Satyrane
spurred forward so hastily that the girdle slipped off the
neck of the beast, which, finding itself free, plunged back
into the forest. To attack the giantess, free her captive,
and restore him to his senses proved short work for Sir
Satyrane, who learned that the youth he had delivered was
known as the Squire of Dames, because he constantly rode
through the forest freeing damsels in distress.

Together with this companion. Sir Satyrane journeyed
on until they encountered Sir Paridell, who told them he
was in quest of Florimell, who was wandering alone in the
forest. Thereupon Sir Satyrane informed Sir Paridell that
the maiden must be dead, exhibiting as proof her girdle and
relating under what circumstances it had been found. Then
all present took a solemn oath not to rest until they had
avenged the lady's death. Biding together these three
knights, overtaken by a storm, sought shelter in a neigh-
boring castle, only to be refused admittance. To escape from
the downpour, they therefore took refuge with their steeds
ia a neighboring shed, and were scarcely ensconced there
when another stranger rode up seeking shelter too. As
there was no room left, the first-comers forbade the stranger
to enter, whereupon he challenged them to- come forth and
fight. Hearing this, Sir Paridell sallied out and began a
duel, which was closely watched by his two companions.
They, however, decided that the combatants were so exactly
matched that it was useless to- continue the fight, and sug-
gested that they four join forces to make their way into
the castle.

Before the determined attack of these knights and of

THE FAERIE QUEENE 273

their followers, Malbeeco, owner of the castle, opened his
gates, and the strangers proceeded to remove their armor
and make themselves at home. While doing so all present
were startled to see that one of their number was a woman,
for the last-comer, Britomart, had no sooner removed her
helmet than her curls fell down over her shoulders !

The next day all left the castle save Sir Paridell, who
had been so sorely wounded by Britomart that he was forced
to remain there for a while. Before long Britomart and
her squire parted from Sir Satyrane and the Squire of
Dames, and rode along until they beheld a shield hanging
from a branch in the forest. Sxu*prised by such a sight,
they invesitigated, only to find its owner, Sir Scudamore,
weeping beside a stream, because his bride, Amoret, had
been stolen from him on his wedding day by the magician
Busirane, who was trying to force her to marry him. Hav-
ing heard this tale of woe, Britomart informed Sir Scuda-
more that instead of shedding vain tears they ought to
devise means to rescue the captive lady. Encouraged by
these words, Sir Scudamore donned his discarded armor
and volunteered to guide Britomart to the magician's castle,
explaining on the way that it was surrounded by a wall of
fire through which none had been able to pass.

Undaunted by this information, Britomart pressed on-
ward, and on reaching the castle declared her intention to
charge through the flames. Although Sir Scudamore
bravely tried to accompany her, he was driven back by
the fierce heat, but Britomart passed through scatheless,
and, entering the castle, found herself in a large room,
whence led a door with the inscription "Be bold." After
studjnng these words for a few moments, Britomart opened
this door and passed through it into a second chamber,
whose walls were Itaed with silver and gold, where she saw
another door above which the same words were written
twice. Opening this door also, Britomart entered into a
third apartment,, sparkling with precious stones, in the
centre of which she saw an altar surmounted by a statue of
Love. Further investigation revealed also the fact that it
18

074 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

boasted another door above which was the inscription ' ' Be
bold, but not too bold. ' '

Pondering on the meaning of this warning, Britomart
decided not to open it, but to take up her vigU fully armed
beside the altar. As the clock struck midnight, the mys-
terious door flew open, and through its portals came a
strange procession of beasts and queer mortals, leading the
doleful Amoret, who had a dagger thrust into her heart
and stumbled along in mortal pain. Although Britomart
would fain have gone to Amoret 's rescue, she was rooted to
the soil by a spell too powerful to break, and, therefore,
remained inactive while the procession circled around the
altar, and again vanished behind the door, which closed
with an ominous clang. Then only the speU lost its power,
and Britomart, springing toward the door, vainly tried to
open it. Not being able to do so, she decided to continue
mounting guard on this spot in hopes of catching another
glimpse of the suffering lady. But only twenty-four hours
later the door reopened and the same procession ap-
peared; it was about to vanish a second time when Brito-
mart, by a violent effort, broke the spell and dashed into
the next apartment before the door closed.

There, finding the magician Brusirane on the point of
binding Amoret fast to a post, she struck him so powerful
a blow that he was obliged to recognize he was in her
power. Britomart was about to slay him when Amoret re-
minded her he alone could heal her wound and free the
other inmates of the castle from magic thraldom. At the
point of her sword, therefore, Britomart compelled the
magician to undo his spells, and, when he had pronounced
the necessary words, Amoret stood before her as whole and
as well as on her wedding-mom when snatched away from
her bridegroom. Seeing this, Britomart bade Amoret fol-
low her out of the castle, assuring her that her husband
was waiting without and would be overjoyed to see her once
more. But, although the rescued lady now gladly followed
her deliverer, she was sorely dismayed on reaching the
forest to find that Sir Scudamore and Britomart 's nurse and

THE FAERIE QUEENE 275

squire had gone away, evidently deeming them both lost.
To comfort poor Amoret, Britomart suggested that they
ride after their companions, a proposal which Amoret gladly
accepted.

BOOK IV. LEGEND OP COMBEL AND TBIAMOND, OR OF
FRIENDSHIP

As Britomart conjectured. Sir Seudamore, deeming it
impossible she should survive the heat of the flames which
had so sorely scorched him, persuaded the nurse to ride
on with him, in hopes of encountering knights who would
help him rescue his bride.

They two soon met a couple of warriors, who, on hearing
their tale, laughingly assured them they need make no
further efforts to rescue Amoret, as she had meantime been
saved by a handsome young knight, with whom she was
gayly riding through the forest. Incensed by this state-
ment. Sir Seudamore offered to fight both informers, who,
laughing at him for being jilted, rode contemptuously away.
These two mockers hadn't gone very far, however, before
they encountered a beautiful damsel, whom they mistook
for the long-lost Florimell, but who was merely an image
of her conjured up by the witch to comfort her son when
he blubbered over the loss of his fair lady. As many
knights were in quest of Florimell, some of them soon
encountered the scoffers, who declared they were leading
the lady back to court. But a little while later the Squire
of Dames found them contending for the possession of the
false Florimell, and suggested that they settle their differ-
ence at the court of Sir Satyrane, where a tournament had
been proclaimed and where Florimell 's girdle was to be
bestowed by the victor upon the fairest lady present. Hear-
ing this, both knights, anxious to win the girdle, set out
for the tournament, where many others had assembled to
take part in the knightly games.

Here any number of feats of valor were performed
before, on the third day. Sir Artegall entered the lists.

276 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

To his surprise, however, he was unhorsed by a stranger
knight, Britomart, who, little suspecting her opponent was
the lover she sought, bore off in triumph the girdle her
prowess had won. Then, summoning all the maidens
present, she picked out the false Florimell as the greatest
beauty and handed her the girdle. But, to the surprise of
all present, the lady could not keep the girdle clasped about
her waist, and, incensed at the mocking remarks of the by-
standers, finally challenged the other ladies present to try it
on. Thus it was ascertained that none could wear it save
Amoret, evidently the only perfectly faithful lady present.

Having thus disposed of her prize, Britomart rode off
with her companion, little suspecting she was turning her
back on the very man she was seeking. Meantime Sir
Scudamore, encountering Sir Artegall and hearing he had
been defeated by the knight who had carried off Amoret,
invited him to accompany him and seek revenge. They two
soon met Britomart, now riding alone through the forest,
for, while she was asleep one day, Amoret had strayed
away and gotten lost. Spurring forward to attack the
stranger. Sir Scudamore was unhorsed at the first touch of
her spear, and, when Sir Artegall rushed forward to rescue
him, he too was disarmed. But, in the midst of the fight,
Britomart 's helmet fell off, so both knights perceived they
had been defeated by a woman. Humbly kneeling before
her, they begged her pardon. Sir Scudamore realizing with
joy that, as his wife had been travelling with a woman, his
mad jealousy was without cause !

To justify her mistress, the nurse-squire now explained
to both men how Britomart had seen Sir Artegall in the
magic mirror, and was in quest of him because fate destined
him to be her spouse. Happy at securing such a mate.
Sir Artegall expressed deep joy, while Sir Scudamore clam-
ored to know what had become of his wife, and grieved to
learn she was lost. To comfort him, however, Britomart
promised to help him recover his beloved, before she would
consent to marry. Then all four proceeded to a neighbor-
ing castle, where Sir Artegall was solemnly betrothed to

THE FAERIE QUEENE 277

Britomart, and where they agreed their marriage would
take place as soon as Amoret was found.

Meantime Timias, squire of Prince Arthur, seeking to
4race the flying damsel, overtook the grim forester, with
whom he had a terrible encounter. Sorely wounded in this
fight, the poor squire lay in the forest until found by the
nymph Belphebe, a twin sister of Amoret, who, in pity for
his sufferings, bathed his wounds, laid healing herbs upon
them, and did all she could to save his life. To her satis-
faction, the wounded squire soon recovered consciousness,
so she conveyed him to her bower, where she and her
nymphs attended him until his wounds were entirely healed.
During this ilbiess Timias fell deeply in love with Belphebe ;
but, deeming himself of too lowly condition to declare
his passion for a lady of high degree, he sorely pined.
Thereupon Belphebe renewed her efforts to cure him, until
he was strong enough to accompany her into the forest.
They were hunting there one day when Timias beheld a
damsel fleeing from a misshapen monster, whom he attacked,
but against whom he could not prevail, because the monster
opposed the lady as a shield to every blow which Timias
tried to deal him. It was only by a feint, therefore, that
Timias made the monster drop the lady, and he would
surely have been slain by his opponent, had not his com-
panion rescued him by a timely arrow. A moment later
Belphebe was horrified to see Timias madly kissing the lady
the monster had dropped. Without waiting to ascertain
why he was doing so, the angry nymph fled, but, had she
lingered, she woidd have discovered that Timias was kissing
her own counterpart, for he had rescued her twin sister
Amoret, who, after wandering away from the sleeping
Britomart, had been seized by the monster from whose
cave she had just managed to escape.

Bewildered to see Belphebe — ^whom he thought he was
embracing — ^rush away, Timias now dropped Amoret to
follow his charmer, but, owing to his lack of familiarity
with the forest pathways, he soon lost his way. In his grief

278 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

he built himself a hut and dwelt in the forest, vowing not
to go back in quest of Amoret, lest he thereby arouse the
jealousy of his beloved. But to beguile his sorrow he carved
Belphebe's name on every tree, and was kissing these marks
when Prince Arthur, seeing him thus occupied, fancied he
had gone mad !

Meantime Timias had also found a dove which had lost
its mate, and, realizing that they were both suffering from
similar complaints, bound around the bird's neck a ruby
heart Belphebe had given him. The dove, flying back to its
mistress, enticed her, by fluttering a few paces ahead of her,
to the place where Timias was kissing her name carved upon
a tree. Convinced of his fidelity by such a proof of devotion,
Belphebe reinstated Timias in her favor, and once more
ranged the forest with him, hunting all kinds of game, until
poor Timias was wounded by the Blatant Beast, — Slander, —
a monster from whose jaws he was fortunately rescued by
Prince Arthur.

After a partial recovery, Timias rode off with his master,
to whom he confided how he had abandoned Amoret in the
forest, and from whom he inquired whether any further
news had been heard about her. To Timias* satisfaction
Arthur assured him she had safely rejoined her husband,
who, finding her wounded in the forest, had carried her
off to a castle and tenderly nursed her back to health. It
was only after witnessing the joyful celebration of the long-
postponed wedding festivities of this reunited couple, that
Sir Arthur had started off on his recent quest for his squire.

Meantime the real Florimell, east into the sea by the
angry fisherman whose vessel she had entered without per-
mission, was conveyed by sea-nymphs to Proteus' haU,
where, after witnessing the nuptials of the Thames and
Medway, she learned that her lover, MarineU, was recover-
ing from his wound, thanks to the ministrations of his
goddess mother. He had, however, been pining for her,
and recovered perfect health and happiness only when they
were joined in wedlock.

THE FAERIE QUEENE 279

BOOK V. THE LEGEND OF SIH ARTEGALL, — JUSTICE

Sir Artegall, the noble champion of justice, or lord
deputy of Ireland, sets forth at Gloriana's behest to defend
Irena, or Ireland. He is attended by Talus, an iron man,
whose flail is supposed to thresh out falsehood. They two
have not proceeded very far before they come across a
knight bending over a headless lady. On inquiring of him,
they learn that a passing rufBan not only carried off the
knight's mate, but left in her stead a dame, whom he be-
headed, because she pursued him.

Provided with a description of the armor and accoutre-
ments of the ruffian, the iron page sets out in pursuit of
him, and stuns him. Then, having bound him fast, he leads
him and his captive back to his master and to the mourning
knight. There the ruffian. Sir Sanglier, coldly asserts he
has nothing to do with the headless lady, but that the livipg
one belongs to him. Finding it impossible to decide which
tells the truth. Sir Artegall decrees that the second lady
shall be beheaded also, but, while Sanglier readily agrees
to this Solomon-like judgment, the true lover vehemently
pleads for the lady's life, declaring he would rather know
her safe than be proved right. Fully satisfied now that Sir
Sanglier is at fault. Sir Artegall metes out justice and
continues his quest.

Before very long he encounters a dwarf who announces
that Florimell's wedding will take place three days hence,
and suggests that, before appearing there. Sir Artegall de-
feat a Saracen who mounts guard over a neighboring bridge,
despoiling all those who pass, for the benefit of his daughter.
Such an undertaking suits Sir Artegall, who not only slays
both the giant and his daughter, but razes their castle to
the ground. Shortly after, on approaching the sea-shore.
Sir Artegall perceives a charlatan provided with scales in
which he pretends to weigh all things anew. Thereupon Sir
Artegall, by weighing such intangible things as truth and
falsehood, right and wrong, demonstrates that the char-

280 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

latan's scales are false, and, after convicting him of trickery,
drowns him in the sea.

The poet now ably describes the wedding of Florimell
and Marinell and the tournament celebrated in their honor,
which Sir Artegall attends, wearing Braggadoechio's armor
as disguise. He helps Marinell win the prize which is to
be bestowed upon Plorrmell, but, when the moment comes
to award it, Braggadocchio boldly produces a false Flori-
mell, so exactly like the true one that they cannot be told
apart. Sir Artegall, however, ruthlessly exposes the trick,
whereupon the false Florimell vanishes, leaving nothing be-
hind her save the wrongfully appropriated girdle, which
reverts at last to its legitimate owner. Seeing this, Brag-
gadocchio is about to sneak away, when Sir Guyon suddenly
steps forward demanding the return of his stolen steed.
Although Braggadocchio boldly asserts the steed he rides is
his own, Sir Artegall inquires of each what secret tokens
the animal bears, and thus enables Sir Guyon to prove
ownership.

Sir Artegall, not long after leaving the marriage hall,
journeys to the sea-shore, where he discovers twin brothers
quarrelling for the possession of two girls, one of whom is
perched upon a huge coffer. Not only does Artegall cheek
this fight, but, on inquiring into its cause, leams how the
twin brothers were awarded neighboring islands, and how
the storms and the sea have carried off half the land of the
one only to add it to the possessions of the other. Thus,
one twin has become richer than the other, and the heiress,
who had promised to marry the poorer brother, has trans-
ferred her affections and possessions to the richer twin. On
her way to join him, however, she suffers shipwreck and
arrives at his island penniless. But the chest containing
her treasures is in due time washed back to the smaller
island, where, meantime, the discarded fiancee of the richer
brother has taken refuge. As the wealthy twin declared,
when the land was mentioned, that "what the sea brought
he had a right to keep," Sir Artegall decides he shall now
abide by his own words, and that, since the sea conveyed
the treasure-chest to his brother, he has no further claim

THE FAERIE QUEENE 281

upon it. Having thus settled this dispute, Artegall rides on
until he meets a troop of Amazons about to hang an un-
fortunate man. At his bidding, Talus delivers this victim,
— Sir Turpine, — a knight who came hither intending to
fight the Amazons. Because the queen of these warrior-
women has slain many men, Artegall challenges her to issue
from her stronghold and fight with him.

We now have a briUiant description of Eadigonde's
appearance and of the duel, in which, blinding him by her
beauty, she manages to get the better of Artegall. Having
done this, she triumphantly bears him off to her oastle, after
ordering the execution of Sir Turpine and Talus, who con-
trive to escape. But Sir Artegall, being a prisoner, is re-
duced to slavery, forced to assume a woman's garb and to
spin beside his f eUow-eaptives, for the Amazon queen wishes
to starve and humiliate her captives into submission to her
will.

Having contrived to escape, Talus informs Britomart
that her lover is a prisoner, whereupon she sets out to
rescue him, meeting with sundry extraordinary adventures
by the way, in which she triumphs, thanks to her magic
spear.

While spending a peaceful night in the Temple of
Isis, Britomart is finally favored with a vision, inspired by
which she challenges Radigonde, who in the midst of the
encounter turns to flee. But Britomart pursues her into
her stronghold, whence she manages to rescue Artegall and,
after setting him free, bids him continue his adventurous
quest.

Sir Artegall and his faithful squire soon after see
a maiden flee before two knights, but, before they can over-
take her, they notice how a new-comer slays one pursuer
while the other turns back. Urged by the maiden, Artegall
kills the second persecutor, and only then discovers that the
knight who first came to her rescue is Arthur. They two,
by questioning the maid, learn she is a servant of Mercilla
(another personification of Elizabeth), and that her mis-
tress is sorely beset by the Soldan, to whom she has recently
gone to carry a message. On her return, the poor maid was

282 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

pursued by two Saracen knights, who were determined to
secure her as a prize. Hearing this, ArtegaU proposes to
assume the armor of one of the dead knights, and thus dis-
guised to convey the maiden back to the Soldan's court.
Arthur is to follow under pretence of ransoming the cap-
tive, knowing that his offer will be refused so insolently
that he will have an excuse to challenge the Soldan. All
this comes true, and thanks to his magic shield Arthur
triumphs. The Soldan's wife, learning that her husband
has succumbed, now proposes to take her revenge by slaying
the captive maid, but ArtegaU defends her and drives the
Soldan's wife into the forest, where she is transformed into
a tiger!

Arthur and Sir ArtegaU now gallantly offer to escort
the maid home, although she warns them that Guyle lies in
wait by the roadside, armed with hooks and a net to catch
all travellers who pass his cave. But, thanks to the bravery,
strength, and agility of Arthur, ArtegaU, and Talus, Guyle 's
might is broken, and the maid triumphantly leads the three
victorious champions to Mercilla's castle. After passing
through its magnificent haUs, they are ushered by Awe and
Order into the presence of the queen, whose transcendent
beauty and surroundings are described at length. While
the queen is seated on her throne, with the English lion at
her feet, Duessa (Mary Queen of Scots) is brought before
her and is proved guilty of countless crimes ; but, although
she evidently deserves death, MerciUa, too merciful to
condemn her, sets her free.

It is while sojourning at MereUla's elegant court
that ArtegaU and Arthur see two youths appear to in-
form the queen that their mother Beige, or Belgium, a
widow with seventeen sons, has been deprived of twelve
of her offspring by a three-headed monster, Gereones (the
personification of Philip the Second of Spain, the ruler of
three realms). This inonster invariably" delivers his cap-
tives into the hands of the Inquisition, by which they are
sorely persecuted. Hearing this report, Arthur steps for-
ward, offering to defend the widow and her children.
MerciUa granting his request without demur, Arthur hur-

THE FAERIE QUEENE 283

ries away, only to find that Beige has been driven out of
her last stronghold by a faithless steward (Alba). But,
thanks to Arthur's efforts, this steward is summoned forth,
defeated in battle, and the lady reinstated in her domain.

Gereones now dauntlessly attacks Arthur, whom the giant
Beige secretly instructs to overthrow an idol in the neigh-
boring church, as that will enable him to triumph without
difficulty. While Arthur is thus rescuing Beige, Artegall'
and Talus have again departed to free Irena from her
oppressor Grantorto. On their way to Ireland, they meet
a knight, who informs them Irena is doomed to perish
unless a champion defeats Grantorto in duel. Thereupon
Artegall swears to champion Irena 's cause, but, on the
way to keep his promise, pauses to rescue a distressed
knight (Henry IV. of Fragce), to whom he restores his
lady FlourdeUs, whom Grantorto is also trying to secure.

ArtegaU, the champion, reaching the sea-shore, at last
finds a ship ready to sail for Ireland, where he lands,
although Grantorto has stationed troops along the shore
to prevent his doing so. These soldiers are soon scattered
by Talus' flail, and Artegall, landing, forces Grantorto to
bite the dust. Having thus freed Irena, he replaces her
on her throne and restores order in her dominions, before
Gloriana summons him back to court.

On the way thither Sir Artegall is beset by the hags
Envy and Detraction, who are so angry with him for
freeing Irena lliaL Lliey not only attack him themselves,
but turn loose upon him the Blatant Beast (Slander).
Although Talus begs to annihilate this infamous trio with
his dreaded flail, Artegall decrees they shall live, and, heed-
less of their threats hurries on to report success to his
beloved mistress.

BOOK VI. LEGEND OP SIR CALIDOEE, OB OF COURTESY

girjQ^JidflEe, who, in the poem, impersonatesjDourtesy
(or Sir PhiliE,Sidney) , now meets Artegall, declaring the
queen has despatched him to track and slay the Blatant

284 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

Beast, — an offspring of Cerberus and Chimera, — ^whose
bite inflicts a deadly wound. When Artegall reports hav-
ing recently met that thousand-tongued monster, Calidore
spurs off, and soon sees a squire bound to a tree. Pausing
to free this captive, he learns that this unfortunate has
been illtreated by a neighboring villain, who exacts the
hair of every woman and beard of every man passing his
castle, because his lady-love wishes a cloak woven of female
hair and adorned with a fringe of beards. It was because
the captive had vainly tried to rescue a poor lady from this
tribute that he had been bound to this tree. On hearing
this report, Sir Calidore decides to end such doings for-
ever, and riding up to the castle pounds on its gates until
a servant opens them wide. Forcing his way into the
castle. Sir Calidore slays all who oppose him, and thus
reaches the villain, with whom he fights until he compels
hiTn to surrender and promise never to exact such tribute
again.

Having settled this affair entirely to his satisfaction,
Sir Calidore rides on until he meets a youth on foot, bravely
fighting a knight on horseback, while a lady anxiously
watches the outcome of the fray. Just as Calidore rides
up, the youth strikes down his opponent, a deed of violence
justified by the maiden, who explains how the man on
horseback was illtreating her when the youth came to her
rescue. Charmed by the courage displayed by an unarmed
man, Sir Calidore proposes to take the youth as his squire,
and learns he is Tristram of Lyonnesse, son of a king, and
in quest of adventures.

Accompanied by this squire, who now wears the armor
of the slain knight, Sir Calidore journeys on, until he
sees a knight sorely wounded by the very man his new
squire slew. They two convey this wounded man to a
neighboring castle, thereby earning the gratitude of his
companion, a lady mourning over his unconscious form.

The castle-owner, father of the distinguished wounded
man, is so grateful to his rescuers that he receives them
with kindness. But he cannot account for the presence of

THE FAERIE QUEENE 285

the lady who explains his son loved her and often met her
in the forest. After nursing her lover until he is out of
danger, Priscilla expresses a desire to return home, but is
at a loss how to account to her parents for her prolonged
absence. Sir Calidore, who volunteers to escort her, then
suggests that he bear to her father the head of the knight
whom Tristram slew, stating this villain was carrying her
off when he rescued her. This tale so completely blinds
Priscilla 's father that he joyfully welcomes his daughter
home, expressing great gratitude to her deliverers ere they
pass on.

Calidore and his squire have not journeyed far before
they perceive a knight and his lady sporting in the shade.
So joyful and innocent do they seem that the travellers
gladly join them, and, while the men converse together,
Lady Serena strays out into a neighboring field to gather
flowers. While she is thus occupied the Blatant Beast
pounces upon her, and is about to bear her away when
her cries startle her companions. They immediately dart
to her rescue. Calidore, arriving first, forces the animal
to drop poor Serena, then, knowing her husband will
attend to her, continues to pursue the fleeing monster.

On reaching his beloved Serena, Sir Calespine finds
her so sorely woimded that she requires immediate care.
Tenderly placing her on his horse, he supports her fainting
form through the forest. During one of their brief halts,
he suddenly sees a bear carrying an infant, so rushes after
the animal to rescue the child. Only after a prolonged pur-
suit does he achieve his purpose, and, not knowing how
else to dispose of the babe, carries it to a neighboring
castle, where the lady gladly adopts it, because she and
hei" husband have vainly awaited an heir. Sir Calespine
now discovers he is unable to retrace his steps to his
wounded companion, who soon after is found by a gentle
savage. This man is trying to take her to some place of
safety when overtaken by Arthur and Timias, who, seeing
Serena in his company, fancy she is his captive. She, how-
ever, hastens to assure them the wild man is more than

286 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

kind and relates what has occiorred. As Serena and Timias
have both been poisoned by the bites of the Blatant Beast,
Arthur takes them to a hermit, who undertakes to cure
them, but finds it a hopeless task.

The learned hermit's healing arts having all proved
vain, he finally resorts to prayer to cure his guests, who,
when healed, decide to set out together in quest of Sir
Calespine and Arthur. The latter has meantime departed
with the wild man, hoping to overtake Sir Turpine, who
escaped from Radigonde. They track the villain to his
castle and, forcing an entrance, fight with him, sparing his
life only because the lady of the castle pleads in his behalf.

Sir Turpine now succeeds in persuading two knights to
pursue and attack Sir Arthur, but this hero proves too
strong to be overcome, and, after disarming both assail-
ants, demands why they have attacked him. When they
reveal Turpine 's treachery, Arthur regrets having spared
his opponent, and decides that having overcome him once
by force he will now resort to strategy. He, therefore, lies
down, pretending to be asleep, while one of the knights
rides back to report his death to Turpine. This plan is
duly carried out, and Sir Turpine, coming to gloat upon
his fallen foe, is seized by Arthur, who hangs him to a
neighboring tree.

Meantime Serena and Timias jog along until they meet
a lady and a fool (Disdainjad^^coni), who are compelled
by Cupid to wander through the world, rescuing as many
people as they have made victims. When thC' fool attempts
to seize Timias, Serena, terrified, flees shrieking into the
forest.

Before long Sir Artegall manages to overtake his
squire, driven by Scorn and Disdain, and immediately
frees him. Then, hearing what penalty Cupid has imposed
upon the couple, he decides they are sufficiently punished
for the wrong they have done and lets them go.

Meanwhile Serena has wandered, until, utterly ex-
hausted, she lies down to rest. While sleeping she is sur-
rounded by savages, who propose to sacrifice her to their

THE FAERIE QUEENE 287

god. They are on the point of slaying Serena when Sir
Calespine comes to her rescue, unaware at the moment that
the lady he is rescuing from their cruel hands is his beloved
wife.

Still pursuing the elusive Blatant Beast, Sir Cali-
dore comes to a place where shepherds are holding a feast
in honor of Pastorella, the adopted daughter of the farmer
Melibee, and beloved of young Coridon, a neighboring shep-
herd. Coridon fears Sir Calidore will prove a rival for
the affections of Pastorella, but Calidore disarms his
jealousy by his perfect courtesy, which in time wins Pas-
torella's love.

One day the lonely Sir Calidore, seeking Pastorella,
catches a glimpse of the Graces dancing in the forest to the
piping of Colin Clout (a personification of Spenser) . Shortly
after, Calidore has the good fortune to rescue Pastorella
from a tiger, just after Coridon has deserted her through
fear.

To reward the bravery of Calidore, who has saved her
from death, Pastorella lavishes her smiles upon him, until
a brigand raid brings ruin and sorrow into the shepherd
village, for the marauders not only carry off the flocks,
but drag Pastorella, Coridon, and Melibee off to their
underground retreat.

In that hopeless and dark abode the captain of the
brigands is beginning to cast lustful glances upon Pastor-
ella, when merchants arrive to purchase their captives as
slaves. The captain refuses to part with Pastorella
although he is anxious to sell Coridon and Melibee, but the
merchants insist upon having the maid, and seeing they
cannot obtain her by fair means resolve to employ force.
The result is a battle, in the midst of which Coridon escapes,
Melibee and the brigand captain are slain, and Pastorella
faints and is deemed dead.

Sir Calidore, who has been absent for a while, comes
back to find the shepherd village destroyed and Coridon
wandering disconsolate among its ruins. From him he
learns all that has happened, and, going in quest of Pas-

288 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

torella's remains, discovers she is alive. Then he manages
ly stratagem not only to rescue her, but to slay merchants
and robbers and recover the stolen flocks and also much
booty. All the wealth thus obtained is bestowed upon
Coridon to indemnify him for the loss of Pastorella, who
accompanies her true love Calidore during the rest of
his journeys.

Being still in quest of the ever fleeing Blatant Beast,
Calidore conducts PastoreUa to the castle of Belgard, whose
master and mistress are passing sad because they lost their
only child in infancy. Wondering how such a loss could
have befallen them, Calidore learns that knight and lady,
being secretly married, entrusted their child to a hand-
maiden, ordering her to provide for its safety in some way,
as it was impossible they should acknowledge its existence
then. The maid, having ascertained that the babe bore on
her breast a certain birth-mark, basely abandoned her in
the forest, where she was found and adopted by Melibee.

It is during Pastorella 's sojourn in this castle that the
lady discovers on her breast the birth-mark, which proves
she is her long-lost daughter. While Pastorella is thus
happy in the company of her parents, Calidore overtakes
the Blatant Beast, and leads it safely muzzled through
admiring throngs to Gloriana's feet. But, strange to relate,
this able queen does not keep the monster securely chained,
for it soon breaks bonds, and the poet closes with the state-
ment that it is again ranging through the country, this
time tearing poems to pieces !

PARADISE LOST

Book I. After intimating he intends "no middle flight,"
but proposes to ''justify the ways of God to man," Milton
states the fall was due to the serpent, who, in revenge for
being cast out of heaven with his hosts, induced the mother
of mankind to sin. He adds how, hurled from the ethereal
sky to the bottomless pit, Satan lands in a burning lake of
asphalt. There, oppressed by the sense of lost happiness

THE &ERALDS SUMMON LUCIFER's HOST TO A COUNCIL AT PANDEMONIUM
By Gustave Dore

PARADISE LOST 289

and lasting pain, he casts his eyes about him, and, flames
making the darkness visible, beholds those enveloped in his
doom suffering the same dire pangs. Full of immortal hate,
unconquerable will, and a determination never to submit
or yield, Satan, confident his companions will not fail him,
and enriched by past experiences, determines to continue
disputing the mastery of heaven from the Almighty.

Beside Satan, on the burning marl, lies Beelzebub, his
bold compeer, who dreads lest the Almighty comes after
them and further punish them. But Satan, rejoining that
"to be weak is miserable, doing or suffering," urges that
they try and pervert God's aims. Then, gazing upward,
he perceives God has recalled his avenging hosts, that the
rain of sulphur has ceased, and that lightning no longer
furrows the sky. He, therefore, deems this a fitting oppor-
tunity to rise from the burning lake, reconnoitre their new
place of abode, and take measures to redeem their losses.

" Seest thou yon dreary plain, forlorn and wild.
The seat of desolation, void of light,
Save what the glimmering of these livid flames
Casts pale and dreadful? Thither let us tend
From oS the tossing of these fiery waves,
There rest, if any rest can harbor there.
And, reassembling our afflicted powers,
Consult how we may henceforth most offend
Our enemy; our own loss how repair;
How overcome this dire calamity;
What reinforcement we may gain from hope;
If not, what resolution from despair."

Striding through parting flames to a neighboring hill,
Satan gazes around him, contrasting the mournful gloom
of this abode with the refulgent light to which he has been
accustomed, and, notwithstanding the bitter contrast, con-
cluding, "it is better to reign in heU than serve in heaven,"
ere he bids Beelzebub call the fallen angels.

His moon-like shield behind him, Beelzebub summons
the legions lying on the asphalt lake, "thick as autumn
leaves that strew the brooks of VaUombroso." Like guilty
sentinels caught sleeping, they hastily arise, and, numerous
as the locusts which ravaged Egypt, flutter around the cope

19

290 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

of hell before alighting at their master's feet. Among them
Milton descries various idols, later to be worshipped in
Palestine, Egypt, and Greece. Then, contrasting the down-
cast appearance of this host with its brilliancy in heaven,
he goes on to describe how they saluted Satan's banner
with "a shout that tore hell's conclave and beyond frighted
the reign of Chaos and old Night." Next, their standards
fluttering in the breeze, they perform their wonted evolu-
tions, and Satan, seeiag so mighty a host still at his dis-
posal, feels his heart distend with pride.

Although he realizes these spirits have forfeited heaven
to follow him, he experiences merely a passing remorse
ere he declares the strife they waged was not inglorious,
and that although once defeated they may yet repossess
their native seat. He suggests that, as they now know the
exact force of their opponent and are satisfied they cannot
overcome him by force, they damage the new world which
the Almighty has recently created, for submission is un-
thinkable weakness.

To make their new quarters habitable, the fallen angels,
under Mammon's direction, mine gold from the neighboring
hills and mould it into bricks, wherewith they erect Pande-
monium, "the high eapitol of Satan and his peers." This
hall, constructed with speed and ease, is brightly illtiminated
by means of naphtha, and, after Satan and his staff have
entered, the other fallen angels crowd beneath its roof in
the shape of pygmies, and "the great consult" begius.

Book II. On a throne of dazzling splendor sits Satan,
surrounded by his peers. Addressing his followers, he de-
clares that, having forfeited the highest position, he has
lost more than they, and that, since he suffers the greatest
pain, none will envy him his preeminence. When he bids
them suggest what they shall do, Moloch votes in favor of
war, stirring up his companions with a belligerent speech.
Belial, who is versed in making "the worse appear the
better reason," urges guile instead of warfare, for they
have tested the power of the Almighty and know he can
easily outwit their plans. In his turn. Mammon favora

PARADISE LOST 291

neither force nor guile, but suggests that, since riches
abound in this region, they content themselves with piling
up treasures.

All having been heard, the fallen angels decide, since
it is impossible again to face Michael's dreaded sword, they*
will adopt Beelzebub's suggestion and try «m[ find out
whether they cannot settle more comfortably in the recently
created world. This decided, Satan inquires who will
undertake to reconnoitre, and, as no one volunteers, de-
clares that the mission of greatest difficulty and danger
rightly belongs to him, bidding the fallen angels mean-
while keep watch lest further ill befall them. This decision
is so enthusiastically applauded that ever since an over-
whelming tumult has been termed "Pandemonium," like
Satan's hall.

The "consult" ended, the angels resume their wonted
size and scatter through hell, some exploring its recesses,
where they discover huge rivers, regions of fire and ice,
and hideous monsters, while others beguile their time by
arguing of "foreknowledge, will, fate," and discussing
questions of philosophy, or join in antiphonal songs.

Meanwhile Satan has set out on his dreadful journey,
wending his way straight to the gates of Hades, before
which stand two formidable shapes, one woman down to
the waist and thence scaly dragon, while the other, a grim,
skeleton-like shape, wears a royal crown and brandishes a
spear. Seeing Satan approach, this monster threatens him,
whereupon a dire fight would have ensued, had not the
female stepped between them, declaring she is Sin, Satan's
daughter, and that in an incestuous union they two
produced Death, whom even they cannot subdue. She adds
that she dares not unlock the gates, but, when Satan urges
that if she will only let him pass, she and Death will be
supplied with congenial occupations in the new world, she
produces a key, and, "rolling toward the gates on scaly
folds," flings wide the massive doors which no infernal
power can ever close again. Through these gaping portals
one now descries Chaos, where hot and cold, moist and

THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

dry contend for mastery, and where Satan will liave to
make his way through the elements in confusion to reach
the place whither he is bound.

The poet now graphically describes how, by means of
his wings or on foot, Satan scrambles up high battlements
and plunges down deep abysses, thus gradually working
his way to the place where Chaos and Night sit enthroned,
contemplating the world "which hangs from heaven by a
golden chain. ' ' Addressing these deities, Satan commiser-
ates them for having lost Tartarus, now the abode of
the fallen angels, as well as the region of light occupied
by the new world. When he proposes to restore to them
that part of their realm by frustrating God's plans, they
gladly speed him toward earth, whither "full fraught
with mischievous revenge accursed in an accursed hour he
hies."

Book III. After a pathetic invocation to light, the
offspring of heaven, whose rays will never shine through
his darkness, Milton expresses a hope that like other bliad
poets and seers he may describe all the more clearly what
is ever before his intellectual sight. Then he relates how
the Eternal Father, gazing downward, contemplates hell,
the newly-created world, and the wide cleft between, where
he descries Satan * ' hovering in the dun air sublime. ' ' Sum-
moning his hosts, the Almighty addresses his Only Be-
gotten Son, — ^whose arrival in heaven has caused Satan's
rebellion, — and, pointing out the Adversary, declares he is
bent on revenge which will redound on his own head.
Then God adds that, although the angels feU. by their own
suggestion, and are hence excluded from all hope of re-
demption, man will fall deceived by Satan, so that, although
he will thus incur death, he will not forever be unf orgiven
if some one will pay the penalty of his sin. Because none
of the angels feel holy enough to make so great a sacrifice,
there is "silence in heaven," until the Son of God, "in
whom all fulness dwells of love divine," seeing man will
be lost unless he interferes, declares his willingness to sur-
render to death all of himself that can die. He entreats.

PARADISE LOST 293

however, that the Father will not leave him in the loath-
some grave, but will permit his soul to rise victorious, lead-
ing to heaven those ransomed from sin, death, and hell
through his devotion. The angels, hearing this proposal,
are seized with admiration, and the Father, bending a
loving glance upon the Son, accepts his sacrifice, proclaim-
ing he shall in due time appear on earth in the flesh to
take the place of our first father, and that, just "as in
Adam all were lost, so in him all shall be saved." Then,
further to recompense his Son for his devotion, God prom-
ises he shall reign his equal for ever and judge mankind,
ere he bids the heavenly host worship their new master.
Eemoving their crowns of amaranth and gold, the angels
kneel before Christ in adoration, and, tuning their harps,
sing the praises of Father and Son, proclaiming the latter
"Saviour of man."

While the angels are thus occupied, Satan, speeding
through Chaos, passes through a place peopled by the
idolatries, superstitions, and vanities of the world, all of
which are to be punished here later on. Then, past the
stairway leading up to heaven, he hurries to a passage
leading down to earth, toward which he whirls through
space like a timibler pigeon, landing at last upon the sun.
There, in the guise of a stripling cherub, Satan teUs the
archangel Uriel that, having been absent at the time of
creation, he longs to behold the earth so as to glorify God.
Thereupon Uriel proudly rejoins he witnessed the per-
formance, and describes how at God's voice darkness fled
and solids converged into spheres, which began to roll
around their appointed orbits. Then he points out to Satan
the newly-created earth, whither the Evil Spirit eagerly
speeds.

Thus said, he turned; and Satan, bowing low.
As to superior spirits is wont in heaven,
Where honor due and reverence none neglects,
Took leave, and toward the coast of earth beneath,
Down from the ecliptic, sped with hoped success,
Throws his steep flight in many an airy wheel.
Nor stayed, till on Niphates' top he lights.

294 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

Book IV. Wishing his voice were loud enough to warn
our first parents of coming woe and thus forestall the
misfortunes ready to pounce upon them, the poet de-
scribes how Satan, "with hell raging in his heart," gazes
from the hill, upon which he has alighted, into Paradise.
The fact that he is outcast both from heaven and earth
fills Satan with alternate sorrow and fierce wrath, under
impulse of which emotions his face becomes fearfully dis-
torted. This change and his fierce gestures are seen by
Uriel, who curiously foUows his flight, and who now for
the first time suspects he may have escaped from hell.

After describing the wonders of Eden — which far sur-
pass aU fairy tales, — Milton relates how Satan, springing
lightly over the dividing waU, lands within its precincts,
and in the guise of a cormorant perches upon a tree, whence
he beholds two God-like shapes "in naked majesty clad."
One of these is Adam, formed for contemplation and valor,
the other Eve, formed for softness and grace. They two
sit beneath a tree, the beasts of the earth playing peace-
fully around them, and Satan, watching them, wonders
whether they are destined to occupy his former place in
heaven, and vows he will ruin their present happiness and
deliver them up to woe ! After arguing he must do so to
secure a better abode for himself and his followers, the
fiend transforms himself first into one beast and then into
another, and, having approached the pair unnoticed, listens
to their conversation. In this way he learns Eve's wonder
on first opening her eyes and gazing around her on the
flowers and trees, her amazement at her own reflection in
the water, and her following a voice which promised to lead
her to her counterpart, who would make her mother of
the human race. But, the figure she thus foimd proving
less attractive than the one she had just seen in the waters,
she was about to retreat, when Adam claimed her as the
other half of his being. Since then, they two have dwelt in
bliss in this garden, where everything is at their disposal
save the fruit of one tree. Thus Satan discovers the pro-
hibition laid upon our first parents. He immediately de-

PARADISE LOST 295

cides to bring about their ruin by inciting them to scorn
divine commands, assuring them that the knowledge of
good and evil will make them equal to God, and having
discovered this method of compassing his purpose, steals
away to devise means to reach his ends.

Meantime, near the eastern gate of Paradise, Gabriel,
chief of the angelic host, watches the joyful evolutions of
the guards who at nightfall are to patrol the boundaries of
Paradise. While thus engaged, Uriel comes glancing down
through the evening air on a sunbeam, to warn him that
one of the banished crew has escaped, and was seen at
noon near these gates. In return Gabriel assures Uriel no
creature of any kind passed through them, and that if an
evil spirit overleapt the earthly bounds he will be discov-
ered before morning, no matter what shape he has assumed.
While Uriel returns to his post in the sun, gray twilight
steals over the earth, and Michael, having appointed bands
of angels to circle Paradise in opposite directions, despatches
two of his lieutenants to search for the hidden foe.

Our first parents, after uniting in prayer, are about to
retire, when Eve, who derives all her information from
Adam, asks why the stars shine at night, when they are
asleep and cannot enjoy them? In reply Adam states that
the stars gem the sky to prevent darkness from resuming
its sway, and assures his wife that while they sleep angels
mount guard, for he has often heard their voices at mid-
night. Then the pair enter the bower selected for their
abode by the sovereign planter, where the loveliest flowers
bloom in profusion, and where no bird, beast, insect, or
worm dares venture.

In the course of their search, the angels Ithuiiel and
Zephon reach this place in time to behold a toad crouching
by the ear of Eve, trying by devilish arts to reach the
organs of her fancy. Touched by Ithuriel's spear, — ^whieh
has the power of compelling all substances to assume their
real form, — ^this vile creature instantly assumes a demon
shape. On recognizing a fiend, Ithuriel demands how he
escaped and why he is here. Whereupon Satan haughtily

THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

rejoins that the time was when none would have dared
treat him so unceremoniously, nor have needed to ask his
name, seeing all would instantly have known him. It is
only then that Zephon recognizes their former superior,
Lucifer, and contemptuously informs him his glory is so
dimmed by sin, it is no wonder they could not place him.
Both angels now escort their captive to Gabriel, who, recog-
nizing the prisoner from afar, also comments on his faded
splendor. Then, addressing Satan, Gabriel demands why
he broke his prescribed bonds? Satan defiantly retorts
that prisoners invariably try to escape, that no one courts
torture, and that, if God meant to keep the fiends forever
in durance vilie, he should have barred the gates more
securely. But, even by escaping from Tartarus, Satan can-
not evade his punishment, and Gabriel warns him he has
probably increased his penalty sevenfold by his disobedience.
Then he tauntingly inquires whether pain is less intoler-
able to the archfiend's subordinates than to himself, and
whether he has already deserted his followers. Wrath-
fully Satan boasts that, fiercest in battle, he alone had
courage enough to undertake this journey, to ascertain
whether it were possible to secure a pleasanter place of
abode. Because in the course of his reply he contradicts
himself, the angel terms him a liar and hypocrite, and bids
him depart, vowing, should he ever be found lurking near
Paradise again, he wiU be dragged back to the infernal pit
and chained fast so he cannot escape ! This threat arouses
Satan's scorn and makes him so insolent, that the angels,
turning fiery red, close around him, threatening him with
their spears! Glancing upward and perceiving by the
position of the heavenly scales that the issue of a combat
would not be in his favor, Satan wrathfuUy flees with the
vanisljing shades of night.

Booh V. Morning having dawned, Adam awakens re-
freshed, only to notice the flushed cheeks and discom-
posed tresses of his companion, from whom, when he
awakens her, he learns of a dream wherein a voice urged
her to go forth and walk in the garden. Eve goes on to

PARADISE LOST 297

describe how, gliding beneath, the trees, she came to the
one bearing the forbidden fruit, and descried among its
branches a winged shape, which bade her taste of the
apples and not despise the boon of knowledge. Although
chilled with horror at the mere suggestion. Eve admits that
she yielded, because the voice assured her one taste would
enable her to flutter through the air like the angels and
perchance visit God ! Her desire to enjoy such a privilege
became so intense that when the fruit was pressed to her
lips she tasted it, and had no sooner done so than she
soared upward, only to sink down and awaken at Adam's
touch !

Comforting his distressed consort, Adam leads her into
the garden to prime over-luxuriant branches and to train
vines from tree to tree. While they are thus occupied, the
Almighty summons Eaphael, and, after informing him
Satan has escaped from hell and has found his way to
Paradise to disturb the felicity of man, bids the archangel
hasten down to earth, and, conversing "as friend with
friend" with Adam, warn him that he had the power to
retain or forfeit his happy state, and caution him against
the wiles of the fiend, lest, after wilfully transgressing,
man should claim he had not been forewarned.

Past choirs of angels, through the golden gate, and down
the mighty stairs, Raphael flits, reachiag earth in the shape
of a six-winged cherub, whose iridescent plumes seem to
have been dipped in heaven's own dyes. On beholding this
visitor, Adam bids Eve collect her choicest fruit, and,
while she hastens away on "hospitable thoughts intent,"
advances to meet Raphael, knowing he brings some divine
message. After hailing Eve with the salutation later used
for Mary, the angel proceeds to Adam's lodge and shares
his meal, admitting that the angels in heaven partake of
spiritual food only, although they are endowed with senses
like man.

On discovering he may question Raphael, — save in re-
gard to matters which are to be withheld for a while
longer, — Adam queries about things which have troubled

298 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

him. Inferring from the angel's words that their bliss is
not secure, he learns that as long as he proves obedient his
happiness will continue, but that, having been created as
free as the angels, he can choose his lot. When Adam asks
in regard to heavenly things, Raphael wonders how he can
relate, in terms intelligible to finite mind, things which
even angels fail to conceive in their entirety and which it
may not be lawful to reveal. Still, knowing he can vouch-
safe a brief outline of aU that has hitherto occurred, Raphael
describes how the Almighty, after creating the Son, bade
the angels bow down and worship him. He states that,
during the night following this event, Lucifer, angry be-
cause he was no longer second in heaven, withdrew to that
quarter of the sky entrusted to his keeping, and there sug-
gested to Beelzebub rebellion against God, who required
them to pay servile tribute to his Son ! Arguing that they
will be gradually reduced to slavery, Satan induces one-
third of the heavenly hosts to rebel, for only one of his
followers, Abdiel, refuses to believe his specious words.
In his indignation, Abdiel bursts forth into flame, de-
nounces Lucifer, and departs to report to the Almighty
what he has heard. He alone proves faithful among the
faithless, so, as he passes out from among them, the rebel
angels, resenting his attitude, overwhelm him with their
scorn.

From amidst them forth he passed.
Long way through hostile scorn, which he sustained
Superior, nor of violence feared aught;
And with retorted scorn his back he turned
On those proud towers to swift destruction doomed.

The Almighty, however, does not require Abdiel's warn-
ing, for the all-seeing eye has already descried what has
occurred, and has pointed out to the Son how Lucifer, de-
voured by pride, is about to rise up against them.

Book TI. In spite of the speed with which he travels,
Abdiel requires all night to cross the distance which sepa-
rates the apostate angels from the heavenly throne. The
news he bears being already known in heaven, the ang

PARADISE LOST 299

joyfully -welcome him and conduct him to the throne, whence,
from a golden cloud, issues a voice proclaiming ' ' well done. ' '
Next God bids Michael lead forth a host equal in number
to the godless crew arraying itself in battle order to dis-
pute from the Almighty the sovereignty of heaven. The
divine orders are to oppose Lucifer and hurl him into the
gulf of Tartarus, whose fiery mouth will open wide to re-
ceive him. A moment later trumpets sound in heaven, and
the angelic legions sally forth to battle for God and for his
Messiah, hymning the Eternal Father. The evil angels,
whose glory has not yet been dimmed, meet this host in
squadrons, at the head of which rides Lucifer (or Satan
as he is generally called after he becomes an apostate),
in his sun-bright chariot. On beholding him, Abdiel mar-
vels because he still retains a God-like semblance, and
warns him he will soon pay the penalty of his folly. In
return Satan terms Abdiel a common deserter, and over-
whelms him with scorn, to which this angel pays little
heed, realizing that by serving a divine master he is freer
than independent Satan.

After exchanging Homeric taunts, these two begin fight-
ing, and Abdiel 's first dart causes the archenemy to recoil
and almost sink to the ground. But, when the divine host
clamor that Satan is overcome, he promptly recovers his
footing, and, retreating into the ranks of his army, directs
their resistance to the foe. The battle now rages with such
fury that the heavens resound. Many deeds of eternal
fame are wrought, for Satan proves almost equal to Michael,
who with his two-handed sword strikes down whole
squadrons at one blow. But wounds inflicted on angels,
even when fallen, are no sooner made than healed, so those
who sink down disabled are soon back in the thick of the
fight as strong as ever. The moment comes, however, when
Michael's sword inflicts so deep a wound in Satan's side
that, for the first time, he experiences pain. Seeing him
fall, his adherents bear him away from the field of battle,
where he is immediately healed, "for spirits, that live
throughout vital in every part, . . . cannot but by

300 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

annihilation die. " Thus temporarily deprived of his great-
est opponent, Michael attacks Moloch, while Uriel, Raphael,
and Abdiel vanquish other potent angels who have dared
to rebel against God.

After describing the battle-field, strewn with shattered
armor and broken chariots, the poet pictures the dismay
in the ranks of the rebel angels, and describes how Satan
drew away his troops so they might rest and be ready to
renew the fray on the morrow. In the silence of that
night, he also consults with his adherents how to fight to
better advantage on the morrow, insisting that they now
know they can never be permanently wounded. The
demons feel confident that, granted .better arms, they could
secure the advantage, so, when one of their number sug-
gests the manufacture of cannon, all gladly welcome the
idea. Under Satan's direction some of the evil angels draw
from the ground metal, which, molten and poured into
moulds, furnishes the engines of destruction they are seek-
ing. Meanwhile others collect ingredients for ammunition,
and, when morning dawns, they have a number of weapons
ready for use, which they cunningly conceal in the centre
of their fourfold phalanx as they advance.

In the midst of the second encounter, Satan's squadrons
suddenly draw aside to let these cannons belch forth the
destruction with which they are charged, an unexpected
broadside which fells the good angels by thousands; but,
although hosts of them are thus laid low, others spring
forward to take their place. On seeing the havoc wrought
by their guns, Satan and his host openly rejoice; but the
good angels, perceiving arms are useless against this artil-
lery, throw them away, and, picking up the hills, hurl them
at their opponents, whom they bury beneath the weight of
mountains. In fact, had not the Almighty checked this
outburst of righteous anger, the fiends would doubtless
have been buried so deep they never would have been able
to reappear !

On the third day the Almighty proclaims that, as both
forces are equal in strength, the fighting will never end

PARADISE LOST 301

unless he interferes. He therefore summons his only be-
gotten Son to wield the thunder-bolts, his exclusive
weapon. Ever ready to do his Father's will, the Son ac-
cepts, mounts a chariot borne by four cherubs, and sets
forth, attended by twenty thousand saints, who wish to
witness his triumph. On seeing him approach, the good
angels exult, while the wicked are seized with terror,
although they disdain to flee. Bidding the angeUc host
watch him triumph single-handed over the foe, the Son of
God changes his benignant expression into one of wrath,
and hurls his thunder-bolts to such purpose that the rebels
long for the mountains to cover them as on the previous
day. "With these divine weapons Christ ruthlessly drives'
Satan and his hosts out of the confines of heaven, over th6
edge of the abyss, and hurls them all down into the bottom-
less pit, sending after them peal after peal of thunderi
together with dazzling flashes of lightning, but mercifully!
withholding his deadly bolts, as he purposes not to annihi-'
late, but merely to drive the rebels out of heaven. Thus,
with a din and clatter which the poet graphically describes,
Satan and his host fall through space and land nine days
later in the flery lake !

After pursuing the foe far enough to make sure they
will not return, the Messiah re-enters heaven in triumph,
greeted by saints and angels with hymns of praise. This
account of the war in heaven concluded, Raphael informs
Adam that Satan, leader of these fallen angels, envying
his happy state, is now plotting to seduce him from his
allegiance to God, and thus compel him to share his eternal
misery.

" But listen not to his temptations ; warn
Thy weaker; let it profit thee to have heard
By terrible example the reward
Of disobedience; firm they might have stood.
Yet fell; remember, and fear to transgress."

Booh VII. At Adam's request Raphael next explains
how the earth was created, saying that, as Satan had se-
duced one-third of heaven's inhabitants, God decided to

302 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

create a new race, whence angels could be recruited to
repeople his realm. In terms simple enough to make him-
self understood, Raphael depicts how the Son of God,
passing through heaven's gates and viewing the immeasur-
able abyss, decided to evolve from it a thing of beauty. He
adds that the Creator made use of the divine compasses,
"prepared in God's eternal store," to circumiscribe the
universe, thus setting its bounds at equal distance from its
centre. Then his spirit, brooding over the abyss, permeated
Chaos with vital warmth, until its various components
sought their appointed places, and earth "self-balanced on
her centre hung." Next the light evolved from the deep
began to travel from east to west, and "God saw that it
was good."

On the second day God created the firmament, on the
third separated water from dry land, and on the fourth
covered the earth with plants and trees, each bearing seed
to propagate its kind. Then came the creation of the sun,
moon, and stars to rule day and night and divide light from
darkness, and on the fifth day the creation of the birds and
fishes, whom God bade multiply until they filled the earth.
Only on the sixth and last day, did God call intp life cattle
and creeping things, which crawled out of the earth full
grown and perfect limbed. Then, as there still lacked a
creature endowed with reason to rule the rest, God created
man in his own image, fashioning him from clay by breath-
ing life into his nostrils. After thus creating Adam and
his consort Eve, God blessed both, bidding them be fruit-
ful, multiply and fill the earth, and hold dominion over
every living thing upon it. Having placed creatures so
richly endowed in Paradise, God left them free to enjoy
all it contained, save the fruit of the tree of knowledge
of good and evil, in regard to which he warned them "in
the day thou eatest thereof, thou diest." Then, his work
finished, the Creator returned to heaven, where he and the
angels spent the seventh day resting from their work.

Book VIII. Not daring to intrude upon the conversa-
tion of Adam and Raphael, Eve waits at a distance, know-

PARADISE LOST 303

ing her husband will tell her all she need learn. Mean-
while, further to satisfy his curiosity, Adam inquires how
the sun and stars move so quietly in their orbit? Eaphael
rejoins that, although the heavens are the book of God,
wherein man can read his wondrous works, it is difficult
to make any one understand the distances separating the
various orbs. To give Adam a slight idea of them, Eaphael
declares that he — ^whose motions are not slow — set out from
heaven at early mom and arrived at Eden only at midday.
Then he describes the three rotations to which our earth is
subject, names the six planets, and assures Adam God
holds them all in his hand and prescribes their paths and
speed.

In his turn, Adam entertains Eaphael with a descrip-
tion of his amazement when he awoke on a flowery hiDside,
to see the sky, the woods, and the streams; his gradual
acquaintance with his own person and powers, the naming
of the animals, and his awe when the divine master led him
into Paradise and warned him not to touch the central
tree. After describing his loneliness on discovering that
all living creatures went about in pairs, Adam adds that,
after he had complained to the Creator, a deep sleep fell
upon him, during which a rib was removed from his side
from which to fashion Eve. Joined by the Creator him-
self to this "bone of his bone and flesh of his flesh," Adam
declares since then they have enjoyed nuptial bliss, and
artlessly inquires whether angels marry and are given in
marriage too. Whereupon Eaphael rejoins that in heaven
love so refines the thoughts and enlarges the heart that
none save spiritual communion is necessary to secure per-
fect bliss. Then, seeing the sun about to set, the angel
takes leave of Adam and wends his way back to heaven,
while the father of mankind rejoins his waiting wife.

Book IX. The poet warns us there will be no more
question of talk between man and angels, as his song
must now change to a tragic note, because vile distrust has
entered Paradise. Then he describes how Satan, driven
away from Eden by Gabriel, circles around the' earth

304 THE BOOK OP THE EPIC

seven days aad nights without rest, and at the end of
that time reenters Paradise, by means of an underground
river and in the guise of a mist. Then, perched as a bird
upon the tree of knowledge of good and evil, Satan decides
to approach our first parents in the guise of a loathsome
serpent and seek his revenge, although fully aware the con-
sequences wiU recoil upon himself. Next, finding a ser-
pent asleep, Satan enters it, and meanders along the paths
of Paradise, hoping to find if^dam and Eve apart, for he
deems it will be easier to work his ends on one at a time.
Morning having come, Adam and Eve awake, and after
their usual song of praise set out to attend the garden. But
Eve insists that as long as thefy^ are together they allow
themselves to be distracted from their labors, and pro-
poses that they work independently until the noon hour
brings them together to share their simple repast. Although
reluctant at first to be parted from his beloved, Adam,
hearing her exclaim he does not trust her, yields to her
pleading. Thus, the serpent, ranging through the garden,
perceives Eve alone among the roses, and rejoices to think
he can make his first attempt upon what he rightly deems
the weaker vessel. Although not without compunction, he
wends his way toward her and startles her by addressing
her in a human voice. When she inquires how it happens
a beast can communicate with her, the serpent rejoins that,
although at first speechless like other beasts, he no sooner
tasted a certain fruit than he was gifted with greater
knowledge than he had yet enjoyed and endowed with the
power of speech. Deeming the fruit of such a tree might
have equally beneficial effects upon her and make her more
nearly equal to her consort, Eve longs to partake of it too,
and readily follows her guide to the centre of the garden.
But, when the serpent points out the forbidden tree, Eve
prepares to withdraw, until the tempter assures her God's
prohibition was not intended to be obeyed. He argues that,
although he has tasted the fruit he continues to live and
has obtained new faculties, and by this specious reasoning
induces Eve to pluck and eat the fruit. As it touches her

PARADISE LOST 305

lips, nature gives "signs of woe," and the guilty serpent
slinks back into the thicket, leaving Eve to gorge upon the
fruit, whose taste affords her keener delight than she ever
experienced before. In laudatory terms she now promises
to care for the tree, and then wonders whether Adam will
perceive any difference in her, and whether it will be wise
to impart to him the happiness she has tasted. Although
at first doubtful. Eve, fearing lest death may ensue and
Adam replace her by another^partaier, determines to induce
her husband to share this food too, for she loves Adam too
dearly to live without him.

"Confinned then I resolve,
Adam shall share with me in bliss or woe:
So dear I love him, that with him all deaths
I could endure, without him live no life."

This decision reached. Eve hastens to Adam, and vol-
ubly explains that the tree is not what God depicted,
for the serpent, having tasted of its fruit, has been endowed
with eloquence so persuasive that he has induced her to
taste it too. Horror-stricken, Adam wails his wife is lost;
then he wonders how he will be able to exist without her,
and is amazed to think she should have yielded to the very
first onslaught of their foe. But, after this first outburst
of grief, he vows he will share her doom and die with
her. Having made a decision so flattering to Eve, he
accepts the fruit which she tenders, and nature again shud-
ders, for Adam, although not deceived, yields to tempta-
tion because of his love for Eve. No sooner have both fed
upon the tree than its effects become patent, for it kindles
within them the never-before-experieneed sense of lust. The
couple therefore emerge on the morrow from their bower,
their innocence lost, and overwhelmed, for the first time
in their lives, by a crushing sense of shame. Good and evil
being equally well known to him, Adam reproaches his
wife, wailing that never more shall they behold the face of
God, and suggests that they weave leaf-garments to hide
their nakedness. So the first couple steal iato the thicket

20

306 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

to fashion fig-leaf girdles, which they bind about them, re-
viling each other for having forfeited their former happy
estate.

Book X. Meantime, Eve's fall has been duly reported in
heaven by the angelio guards, whom the Almighty reas-
sures, saying he knew the Evil Spirit would succeed and
man would fall. Then the same voice decrees that, as man
has transgressed, his sentence shaU. be pronounced, and that
the one best fitted for such a task is the Son, man's mediator.
Ready to do his Father's will in heaven as upon earth, the
Son departs, promising to temper justice with mercy, so
that God's goodness will be made manifest, and adding that
the doom of the absent Satan shall also be pronounced.

Escorted to the gates of heaven by the angelic host, the
Redeemer descends alone to earth, where he arrives in the
garden in the cool of the evening. At his summons Adam
and Eve emerge from their hiding-place, and, when Adam
shamefacedly claims they hid because they were naked, his
maker demonstrates how his very words convict him of
guilt, and inquires whether they have eaten of the for-
bidden fruit. Unable to deny his transgression, Adam
states he is in a quandary, for he must either accuse him-
self wrongfully or lay the guilt upon the wife whom it
is his duty to protect. When he adds that the woman gave
him the fruit whereof he did eat, the judge sternly demands
whether Adam was bound to obey his consort, reminding
him that woman was made subject to man and declaring
that by yielding to Eve's persuasions he incurred equal
guilt. Then, turning to the woman, the judge demands
what she had done, and Eve, abashed, confesses the ser-
pent beguiled her until she ate. Having thus heard both
culprits, the judge pronounces sentence upon the serpent
in veiled terms, for, as yet, man is not to understand what
is divinely planned. Then, having disposed of the arch-
enemy, he predicts Eve will bring forth her children in
suffering and will be subject to her husband's will, ere he
informs Adam that henceforth he will have to earn his
bread by the sweat of his brow, for the earth will no longer

PAEADISE LOST 307

bear fruit for Mm without labor. Having thus pronounced
his judgment, the judge postpones the penalty of death
indefinitely, and taking pity upon our first parents, clothes
them in the skins of beasts, to enable them to bear the
harsher air to which they are soon to be exposed.

Meantime Sin and Death peer forth through hell 's open
gateway, hoping to catch some glimpse of returning Satan.
Weary of waiting. Sin finally suggests to Death the folly
of remaining idle, since Satan cannot fail to succeed, and
proposes that they foUow him over the abyss, building as
they go a road to facilitate intercourse hereafter between
hell and earth. This proposal charms Death, whose keen
nostrils already descry the smell of mortal change, and
who longs to reach earth and prey upon aU living creatures.
These two terrible shapes, therefore, venture out through
the waste, and by making "the hard soft and the soft
hard," they fashion of stone and asphalt a broad highway
from the gates of hell to the confines of the newly created
world.

They have barely finished this causeway when Satan —
still in the likeness of an angel — comes flying toward them,
for after seducing Eve he has lurked in the garden until
from a safe hiding-place he heard the threefold sentence
pronounced by the judge. He too does not grasp his doom,
but, realizing that humanity is in his power, is hastening
back to Hades to make the joyful fact known. On en-
countering Sin and Death, Satan congratulates them upon
their engineering skill and sends them on to work their
will in the world, while he speeds along the path they have
made to tell the fallen angels all that has occurred. In
obedience to his orders a number of these are mounting
guard, but Satan, in the guise of a ministering spirit, passes
through their midst unheeded, and only after entering
Pandemonium allows his native majesty to shine forth.
On becoming aware he is once more present, the demons
welcome him with a mighty shout. Then by an impressive
gesture Satan imposes silence and describes his journey,
his success, and the ease with which they can pass to and

308 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

fro now that Sin and Death have paved their way. To
satisfy their curiosity he further depicts by what means
he tempted woman, and, although he admits he was cursed
as well as the fallen, does not appear dismayed. Raising
their voices to applaud him, his adherents are now surprised
to hear themselves hiss, and to discover they have aU Been
transformed into snakes. Then Satan himself, in the form of
a dragon, guides them to a grove near by, where they climb
the trees and greedily feed on apples of Sodom, which
offend their taste, a performance to be renewed yearly on
the anniversary of the temptation.

Meanwhile, Sin and Death having entered Paradise, —
where they are not yet allowed to touch hinnan beings, — ^lay
low herbs, fruit, flowers, and beasts, all of which are now
their legitimate prey. Pointing out their ravages, the
Almighty explains that, had man not disobeyed, these de-
spoilers would never have preyed upon the newly created
world, where they are now to have full sway until the Son
hurls them back into Hades. On hearing these words, the
angels praise the ways of the Almighty, which are ever just,
and laud his Son as the destined restorer of mankind. While
they are thus employed, the Almighty directs some of his
attendants to move the sun, so as to subject the earth to
alternate cold and heat, thus making winter follow summer.
The planets, too, are to shed malignant influences upon
the earth, whose axle is slightly turned, while violent winds
cause devastation, and enmity is kindled between creatures
which have hitherto lived in peace. Adam, on perceiving
these changes, becomes conscious they are the effect of
his transgression, and is plunged in such grief that God's
order to increase and multiply seems horrible. In his grief
he murmurs aloud, but, after a while, realizing he was
left free to choose between good and evil, he acknowledges
his punishment is just. The fact that God does not imme-
diately viat upon biTn the penalty he has incurred does not,
however, comfort him, because he longs for death to end
his sorrows. On seeing her husband's grief, Eve now
volunteers to go in quest of their judge, imploring him to

PARADISE LOST 309

visit upon her alone the penalty of sin. Her readiness to
sacrifice herself touches Adam, who replies that, since they
are one, they must share what awaits them. When Eve
intimates that, since they are doomed, it will be well never
to bear any children, Adam reminds her it is only through
repentance they can appease their judge, and bids her not
scorn life or its pleasures.

Booh XI. Having reached this state of humility and
repentance, our first parents are viewed compassionately
by the Redeemer, who, gathering up their prayers, presents
them to the Father as the first-fruits which have sprung
from his mercy.

" See, Father, what first-fruits on earth are sprung
From thy implanted grace in man; these sighs
And prayers, which in this golden censer, mixed
With incense, I thy priest before thee bring,
Fruits of more pleasing savor, from thy seed
Sown with contrition in his heart, than those
Which his own hand, manuring all the trees
Of Paradise, could have produced, ere fallen
From innocence."

In reply to the touching pleas of this advocate, the
heavenly Father promises the culprits shall be forgiven,
provided their repentance is sincere, but insists that mean-
time they be ejected from Paradise. Michael and the
cherubs chosen for this office are instructed to mount guard
day and night, lest the fiend return to Paradise, or the
human pair re-enter and partake of the tree of life and
thus escape the penalty of death. But, before driving out
our first parents, Michael is to reveal to Adam all that
awaits his race in the future, emphasizing the promise that
salvation shall come through his seed. These orders re-
ceived, the archangel wends his way down to earth, where,
dawn having appeared, Adam and Eve once more issue
from their bower.

Night has brought some comfort, and Adam exclaims
that, since the penalty of death is to be postponed, they
must show their penitence by laboring hard, working hence-

310 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

forth side by side as contentedly as their fallen state will
allow. On the way to the scene of their wonted labors,
they notice an eagle pursuing another bird and see wild
beasts hunting one another. Besides these ominous signs,
Adam, descrying a bright light travelling rapidly toward
them, informs Eve some message is on its way. He is not
mistaJken, for Michael soon emerges from this cloud of light,
so, while Eve hurries off to prepare for his entertainment,
Adam steps forward to receive him.

Clad in celestial panoply, the angel announces he has
been sent to inform Adam that although the penalty of
death is indefinitely postponed, he is no longer to inhabit
Paradise, but is to go forth into the world and till the
ground from whence he sprang. Horror-stricken at these
tidings, Adam remains mute, and Eve, hearing the decree
from a distance, wails aloud at the thought of leaving home.
To comfort her, the angel bids her dry her tears and
follow her husband, making her home wherever he abides.
Then Adam wonders whether by incessant prayer and
penitence the Almighty could be induced to alter his de-
cree and let them remain in Paradise, saying he hoped to
point out to his descendants the places where he met and
conversed with his Maker. But Michael rejoining he will
find God everywhere invites Adam to foUow him to the
top of a neighboring hill, explaining he has enveloped
Eve in slumbers, which will hold her entranced while he
reveals to Adam the earth's kingdoms and their glory.

"Know I am sent
To show thee what shall come in future days
To thee and to thy offspring ; good with bad
Expect to hear, supernal grace contending
With sinfulness of men; thereby to learn
True patience, and to teTnper joy with fear,
And pious sorrow, equally inured
By moderation either state to bear,
Prosperous or adverse: so shalt thou lead
Safest thy life, and best prepared endure
Thy mortal passage when it comes. Ascend
This hill; let Eve (for I have drenched her eyes)
Here sleep below, while thou to foresight wakest.
As once thou slept'st, while she to life was formed."

PARADISE LOST 311

From a hill in Paradise, — after purging Adam's eyes
with three drops of water from the well of life,— Michael
vouchsafes him a glimpse of all that is to take place upon
our earth. Thus, Cain and Abel first pass before their
father's eyes, but death is so unintelligible to Adam that
the angel has to explain what it means. Overwhelmed at
the thought that so awful a thing has come into the world
through his transgression, Adam is further horrified when
the angel reveals all the suffering which will visit mankind,
explaining that, since much of it will be due to evil living,
it behooves Adam to observe temperance in food and drink.
But he warns him that, in spite of all precautions, old
age will come upon him as a precursor of death. In a
panorama Adam sees all that is to occur until the Deluge,
and, watching Noah construct the ark, wails because his
progeny is to be destroyed by the flood. The angel, how-
ever, demonstrates that the righteous will be saved and
that from them will descend a race more willing to obey
God's commands. The dove and the rainbow, therefore,
instil comfort into Adam's heart, as does God's promise
that day and night, seedtime and harvest shall hold their
course until new heavens and earth appear wherein the
just shall dwell.

Booh XII. Having depicted a world destroyed and
foreshadowed a world restored, the angel shows Adam how
man will migrate to a plain, where by means of bricks and
bitumen an attempt will be made to erect a tower to reach
heaven. When Adam expresses displeasure that one of
ids race should defy God, Michael assures him he rightly
abhors disobedience, and comforts him by revealing how
one righteous man, in whose "seed all nations shall be
blest," is to be brought out of that country into the Prom-
ised Land.

Not only does the angel name Abraham, but depicts his
life, the captivity in Egypt, the exodus, and the forty years
in the desert. He also vouchsafes to Adam a glimpse of
Moses on Mount Sinai receiving the tables of the law, and
appointing the worship which the Chosen People are to

312 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

offer to their Creator. When Adam wonders at the number
of laws, Michael rejoins that sin has many faces, and that,
until blood more precious than that of the prescribed sacri-
fices has been shed, no suitable atonement can be made.

After describing how under the Judges and then under
the Kings the people of Israel will continue their career,
the angel designates Da^id as the ancestor of the Messiah,
whose coming will be heralded by a star which will serve
as guide to eastern sages. He adds that this Messiah will
descend from the Most High by a virgin mother, that his
reign will extend over all the earth, and that, by bruising
the serpent's head, he will conquer Sin and Death. This
promise fills Adam's heart with joy, because it partly ex-
plains the mysterious prophecy, but, when he inquires how
the serpent can wound such a victor's heel, Michael re-
joins that, in order to overcome Satan, the Messiah will
incur the penalty of death, revealing how, after living
hated and blasphemed, he will prove by his death and
resurrection that Sin and Death have no lasting power over
those who believe in his name. FuU of joy at the promise
that the Messiah will lead all ransomed souls to a happier
Paradise than the one he has forfeited, Adam declares since
such good is to proceed from the evil he has done he doubts
whether he should repent.

Between the death of Christ and his second coming, the
angel adds that the Comforter will dwell upon earth with
those who love their Eedeemer, helping them resist the
onslaughts of Satan, and that in spite of temptation many
righteous wiU ultimately reach heaven, to take the place of
the outcast angels.

"Till the day
Appear of respiration to the just,
And vengeance to the wicked, at return
Of him so lately promised to thy aid.
The woman's Seed, ohscurely then foretold,
Now amplier known thy Saviour and thy Lord,
Last in the clouds from heaven to be revealed
In glory of the Father, to dissolve

PARADISE REGAINED 313

Satan with his perverted world, then raise
From the conflagrant mass, purged and refined,
New heavens, new earth, ages of endless date
Founded in righteousness and peace and love.
To bring forth fruits, joy, and eternal hliss."

These instructions finished, the angel bids Adam not
seek to know any more, enjoining upon him to add deeds
to knowledge, to cultivate patience, temperance, and love,
promising, if he obeys, that Paradise will reign in his heart.
Then, pointing out that the guards placed around Eden
are waving their flashing swords and that it is time to
awaken Eve, he bids Adam gradually impart to her all that
he has learned through angelic revelations. When they
rejoin Eve, she explains how God sent her a dream which
has soothed her heart and filled it with hope, making her
realize that, although she has sinned and is unworthy,
through her seed all shall be blessed.

Then the angel takes Adam and Eve by the hand and
leads them out by the eastern gate into the world. Gaziag
backward, our first parents catch their last glimpse of
Paradise and behold at the gate the angel with a flaming
sword. Thus, hand in hand, dropping natural tears, they
pass out into the world to select their place of rest, having
Providence only for their guide.

PARADISE REGAINED

Having sung of Paradise Lost, Milton proposes as
theme for a new epic "Paradise R^ained." In it he
purports to sing of "deeds heroic although in secret done"
and to describe how Christ was led into the wilderness to
be tempted by Satan.

Booh I. While baptizing in the Jordan, John suddenly
beheld Christ approaching, and, although he at first de-
murred, yielded at last to his request to baptize him too.
While the Baptist was doing this, a heavenly voice pro-
claimed Christ Son of God. This was heard not only by
John and his disciples, but also by the adversary, who,

314 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

ever since the fall, had been roaming around the world, and
who for years past has been closely watching the promised
Redeemer in hopes of defeating his ends.

Suddenly realizing that the conflict between them is
about to begin, Satan hastens back to Hades to take counsel
with his crew. When all are assembled, he reminds them
how long they have ruled the earth, adding that the time
has come when their power may be wrested from them,
and the curse spoken in Eden fulfilled. He fears Jesus is
the promised Messiah, owing to his miraculous birth, to the
testimony of the precursor, and to the heavenly voice when
he was baptized. Besides he has recognized in Christ's
lineaments the imprint of the Father's glory, and avers
that, unless they can counteract and defeat the Son's ends,
they will forfeit all they have gained. Realizing, however,
that this task is far greater than the one he undertook
centuries before, — when he winged his way through chaos
to discover the new world and tempt our first parents, —
he volunteers to undertake it in person, and all the evil
spirits applaud him. This settled, Satan departs to carry
out the second temptation.

Meantime another assembly has been held in heaven,
where, addressing the archangel Gabriel, the Almighty in-
forms him he will soon see the fulfilment of the message he
bore some thirty years previously to Mary. He adds that
his Son, whom he has publicly recognized, is about to be
tempted by Satan, who, although he failed in the case
of Job, is undertaking this new task confident of success.
The Almighty also predicts that Satan wiU again be de-
feated, but declares Christ is as free to yield or resist as
Adam when first created, and that before sending him out
to encounter Sin and Death he means to strengthen him by
a sojourn in the desert. On hearing that Satan's evil plans
will be frustrated, the angels burst into a hymn of triumph
with which heaven resounds.

So spake the eternal Father, and all Heaven
Admiring stood a space; then into hymns
Burst forth, and in celestial measures movejl.

PARADISE REGAINED 315

Circling the throne and singing, while the hand
Sung with the voice; and this the argument:
"Victory and triumph to the Son of God
Now entering his great duel, not of arms,
But to vanquish by wisdom hellish wiles.
The Father knows the Son; therefore secure
Ventures his filial virtue, though untried.
Against whate'er may tempt, whate'er seduce.
Allure, or terrify, or undermine.
Be frustrate, all ye stratagems of Hell,
And devilish machinations come to nought."

During this time the Son of God, after lingering three
days by the Jordan, is driven by the Holy Spirit into the
wilderness, where he spends his time meditating upon the
great office he had undertaken as Saviour of mankind. In
a grand soliloquy we hear how since early youth he has
been urged onward by divine and philosophical influences,
and how, realizing he was bom to further truth, he has
diligently studied the law of God. Thanks to these studies,
our Lord at twelve could measure his learning with that
of the rabbis in the temple. Ever since that time he has
longed to rescue his people from the Roman yoke, to end
brutality, to further all that is good, and to win all hearts
to God. He recalls the stories his mother told him in regard
to the annunciation, to his virgin birth, and to the Star of
Bethlehem, and comments upon the fact that the precursor
immediately recognized him and that a voice from heaven
hailed him as the Son of God !

Although Christ realizes he has been sent into the wilder-
ness by divine power, and that his future way lies "through
many a hard assay" and may lead even to death, he does
not repine. Instead he spends the forty days in the wilder-
ness fasting, preparing himself for the great work which
he is called upon to accomplish, and paying no heed to
the wild beasts which prowl around him without doing him
any harm.

It is only when weakness has reached its highest point
and when Christ begins to hunger, that Satan approaches
him in thp guise of an old peasant, pathetically describing
the difficulty of maintaining life in the wilderness. Then

316 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

he adds that, having seen Jesus baptized in the Jordan,
he begs him to turn the stones around him into food, thereby
relieving himself and his wretched fellow-sufferer from the
pangs of hunger.

" But, if thou be the Son of God, command
That out of these hard stones be made thee bread;
So shalt thou save thyself and us relieve
With food, whereof we wretched seldom taste."

Jesus, however, merely reproaches the tempter, rejoin-
ing, "Man shall not live by bread alone, but from the words
which proceed out of the mouth of God," and explaining
that he knows who Satan is and for what purpose he has
been sent hither. Unable to conceal his identity any longer,
the evil spirit admits he has come straight from hell, but
adds that God gave him power to test Job and to punish
Ahab. He argues that the Almighty, who fed the Israelites
with manna and supplied Elijah with miraculous food, does
not intend to starve his only Son. Then, expressing ad-
miration for Jesus' intellect, Satan explains he is not the
foe of man, since through him he has gained everything,
and whom he prides himself upon having often helped
by oracles and omen. In spite of these arguments, Jesus
refuses to listen to him, declares his oracles have lost all
power, and adds that he is sent to execute his Father's
will.

"God hath now sent his living oracle
Into the world to teach his final will,
And sends his Spirit of truth henceforth to dwell
In pious hearts, an inward oracle
To all truth requisite for men to know."

Thus baffled, Satan vanishes into "thin air diffused,"
and night steals over the desert, where fowls seek their
nests while the wild beasts begin to roam in search of food.

Book II. John the Baptist and his disciples, made
anxious by Jesus' long absence, now begin to seek him as
the prophets sought Elijah, fearing lest he too may have
been caught up into heaven. Hearing Simon and Andrew
wonder where he has gone and what he is doing, Mary

PARADISE REGAINED 317

relates the extraordinary circumstances which, accompanied
her Son's birth, mentioning the flight into Egypt, the re-
turn to Nazareth, and sundry other occurrences during the
youth of our Lord. She declares that, ever since Gabriel's
message feU upon her ear, she has been trying to prepare
herself for the fulfilment of a promise then made her, and
has often wondered what Simeon meant when he cried
that a sword would pierce her very soul! Still, she re-
calls how at twelve years of age, she grieved over the loss
of her Son, until she found him in the temple, when he
excused himself by stating he must be about his Father's
business. Ever since then Mary has patiently awaited what
is to come to pass, realizing the child she bore is destined
to great things.

Thus Mary pondering oft, and oft to mind
Recalling what remarkably had passed
Since first her salutation heard, with thoughts
Meekly composed awaited fulfilling.

Satan, having hastened back to the infernal regions,
reports the ill success of his first venture, and the effect
his first temptation had upon our Lord. Feeling at a loss,
he invites the demons to assist him with their counsel,
warning them this task will prove far more difficult than
that of leading Adam astray. Belial, the most dissolute
spirit in hell, then proposes that Satan tempt Jesus with
women, averring that the female sex possesses so many
wiles that even Solomon, wisest of kings, succumbed. But
Satan scornfully rejects this proposal, declaring that He
whom they propose thus to tempt is far wiser than Solomon
and has a much more exalted mind. Although certain
Christ will prove impervious to the bait of sense, Satan
surmises that, owing to a prolonged fast, he may be sus-
ceptible to the temptation of hunger, so, taking a select
band of spirits, he returns to the desert to renew his at-
tempts in a diEferent form.

Transferring us again to the solitude, the poet describes
how our Saviour passed the night dreaming of Elijah fed

318 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

by the ravens and of Daniel staying his hunger with pulse.
Awakened at last by the song of the larks, our Lord rises
from his couch on the hard ground, and, strolling into a
fertile valley, encounters Satan, who, superbly dressed, ex-
presses surprise he should receive no aid in the wilderness
when Hagar, the Israelites, and Elijah were all fed by
divine intervention. Then Satan exhibits the wonderful
banquet he has prepared, inviting Christ to partake of it;
but the Son of God haughtily informs him he can obtain
food whenever he wishes, and hence need not accept what
he knows is offered with evil intent. Seeing our Lord can-
not be assailed on the ground of appetite, Satan causes the
banquet to vanish, but remains to tempt Christ with an
offer of riches, artfully setting forth the power that can
be acquired by their means. He adds, since Christ's mind
is set on high designs, he will require greater wealth than
stands at the disposal of the Son of Joseph the carpenter.
But, although Satan offers to bestow vast treasures upon
him, Christ rejects this proffer too, describing what noble
deeds have been achieved by poor men such as Gideon,
Jephtha, and David, as well as by certain Romans. He adds
that riches often mislead their possessor, and so eloquently
daseribes the drawbacks of wealth that Satan realizes it is
useless to pursue this attempt.

Booh III. Again complimenting Christ on his acumen,
Satan rehearses the great deeds performed by Philip of
Macedon and by Julius Caesar, who began their glorious
careers earlier in life than he. Then, hoping to kindle in
Jesus' heart a passion for worldly glory, Satan artfuUy
relates that Caesar wept because he had lived so long with-
out distinguishing himself; but our Lord quietly demon-
strates the futility of earthly fame, compared to real glory,
which is won only through religious patience and virtuous
striving, such as was practiced by Job and Socrates. When
Christ repeats he is not seeking his own glory but that of
the Father who sent him, Satan reminds him God is sur-
rounded with splendor and that it behooves his Son to
strive to be like him. But Jesus rejoins that, while glory

PAKADISE REGAINED 319

is the essential attribute of the Creator, no one else has a
right to aspire to anything of the sort.

Undeterred by these checks, Satan changes his theme,
and reminds Christ that, as a member of the royal family,
he is not only entitled to the throne, but expected to free
Judea from Roman oppression. He states that the holy
temple has been defiled, that injustice has been committed,
and urges that even the Maccabees resorted to arms to free
their country. Although Christ insists no such mission has
been appointed for him, he adds that, although his reign
will never end, it will be only those who can suffer best
who will be able to enjoy it.

" Who best
Can suffer, best can do; best reign, who first
Well hath obeyed; just trial ere I merit
My exaltation without change or end."

Then, turning upon his interlocutor, Christ inquires
why he is so anxious to promote the one whose rise will
entail his fall? To which Satan replies that, having no
hope, it little behooves him to obstruct the plans of Christ,
from whose benevolence alone he expects some mitigation of
his punishment, for he fancies that by speaking thus he
can best induce Christ to hear him. Then, feigning to
believe that Christ has refused his offers simply because he
has never seen aught save Jerusalem, Satan conveys him
in the twinkling of an eye to the summit of a mountain,
whence, pointing eastward, he shows him all the great
Idngdoms of Asia. Thus, he reveals the glories of Assyria,
Babylonia, and Persia, — of whose histories he gives a brief
resume, — before pointing out a large Parthian army setting
out to war against the Scythians, for he hopes by this
martial display to convince Christ that, in order to obtain
a kingdom, he will have to resort to military force. Then
he adds he can easily enlist the services of this army, with
which Christ can drive the Romans out of Judea, and tri-
umphantly reign over the land of his ancestors, whence his
glory will extend far and wide, until it far surpasses all

320 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

that Rome and Caesar achieved. Jesus, however, demon-
strates the vanity of all military efforts, declaring his time
has not yet come, but assuring him he will not be found
wanting when the moment comes for him to ascend the
throne, for he hopes to prove an able ruler.

Then he reminds Satan how he tempted David to take a
census against God's wish, and led Israel astray, until the
Ten Tribes were taken off into captivity in punishment for
their idolatry. He also comments upon Satan's extra-
ordinary anxiety to restore the very people whose foe he
has always been, as he has proved time and again by lead-
ing them into idolatry, adding that God may yet restore
them to their liberty and to their native land. These argu-
ments silence even Satan, for such is ever the result when
"with truth falsehood contends."

Book IV. With all the persistency of his kind, Satan
refuses to acknowledge himself beaten, and, leading Christ
to the western side of the mountain, reveals to him all the
splendor of Rome, exhibiting its Capitol, Tarpeian Rock,
triumphal arches, and the great roads along which hosts
are journeying to the Eternal City. After thus dazzling
him, Satan suggests that Christ oust Tiberius (who has no
son) from the imperial throne, and make himself master
not only of David's realm, but of the whole Roman Empire,
establishing law and order where vice now reigns.

Although Satan eagerly proffers his aid to accomplish
all this, our Lord rejoins such a position has no attraction
for him, adding that, as long as the Romans were frugal,
mild, and temperate, they were happy, but that, when they
became avaricious and brutal, they forfeited their happi-
ness. He adds that he has not been sent to free the Romans,
but that, when his season comes to sit on David's throne,
his rule will spread over the whole world and will dwell
there without end.

"Know, therefore, when my season comes to sit
On David's throne, it shall be like a tree
Spreading and overshadowing all the earth.
Or as a stone that shall to pieces dash

PARADISE REGAINED 321

All monarchies besides throughout the world,
And of my kingdom there shall be no end:
Means there shall be to this, but what the means
Is not for thee to know nor me to tell."

Pretending that Christ's reluctance is due to the fact
that he shrinks from the exertions necessary to obtain this
boon, Satan offers to bestow it freely upon him, provided
he wiU fall down and worship him. Hearing this proposal,
Christ rebukes the tempter, saying, "Thou shalt worship
the Lord thy God and only him shalt serve," and reviling
him for his ingratitude. To pacify his interlocutor, Satan
then proposes to make him famous through wisdom, and
exhibits Athens, — ^that celebrated centre of ancient learn-
ing,— offering to make him master of all its schools of
philosophy, oratory, and poetry, and thus afford him ample
intellectual gratification. But Jesus rejects this offer also,
after proving the vanity and insufficiency of heathen
philosophy and learning, and after demonstrating that
many books are a weariness to the flesh, and that none com-
pare with those which are the proudest boast of God's
Chosen People.

" However, many books,
Wise men have said, are wearisome: who reads
Incessantly, and to his reading brings not
A spirit and judgment equal or superior
(And what he brings, what needs he elsewhere seek?).
Uncertain and unsettled still remains.
Deep versed in books and shallow in himself.
Crude or intoxicate, collecting toys
And trifles for choice matters, worth a sponge;
As children gathering pebbles on the shore."

Irritated by the failure of all his attempts, Satan next
taunts his opponent by describing the sufferings and humilia-
tions he will have to undergo, until, seeing this too has no
effect, he suddenly bears him back to the wilderness, where
he leaves him for the night, during which he sends a terrific
storm to appall him. Even in sleep Jesus is haunted by
dreams and spectres sent by the tempter, but at dawn all
these visions disappear, the storm dies down, and a lovely
morning greets him when he awakes.
21

322 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

Once more Satan appears to warn our Lord that the
dreams of the night and the horrors of the tempest were
foreshadowings of what he will have to undergo. In spite
of this, Christ assures him he is toiling in vain ; whereupon,
swollen with rage, Satan confesses that ever since he heard
Gabriel's announcement to the shepherds in regard to
Christ's birth, he has watched him, hoping to get some hold
upon him during his infancy, youth, or early manhood.
He now inquires whether Christ is really his destined foe
and reluctantly admits he has failed in all his endeavors
to tempt him. But one last test still remains to be tried,
for Satan suddenly conveys Christ to the topmost pinnacle
of the Temple of Jerusalem, bidding him demonstrate his
divinity by fearlessly casting himself down, since God has
"given his angels charge concemiag him."

Not only does our Lord reprove the tempter, but so
calmly manifests his divine power by standing erect on this
dangerous point, that Satan — like all other defeated mon-
sters, such as the Sphinx — falls howling down into the
infernal regions. At the same time angels convey our Lord
to a lovely valley, where they minister unto him with
celestial food and celebrate his victory with a triumphal
hymn, for the Son of God has successfully resisted the
tempter, before whom Adam succumbed, and has thereby
saved man from the penalty of his sin.

Henceforth Satan will never again dare set foot in
Paradise, where Adam and his chosen descendants are to
dwell secure, while the Son of Man completes the work he
has been sent to do.

Thus they the Son of God, our Saviour meek,
Sung victor, and from heavenly feast refreshed
Brought on his way with joy; he unobserved
Home to his mother'a private liouse returned.

GERMAN EPICS

German literature begins after the great migrations
{circa 600), and its earliest samples are traditional songs
of an epic character, like the Hildebrandslied. Owing to
diversities of race and speech, there are in southern and
northern Germany various epic cycles which cluster around
such heroes as Ermanrich the Goth, Dietrich von Bern, '
Theodoric the East Goth, Attila the Hun, Gunther the Bur-
gundian, Otfried the Langobardian, and Sigfried — per-
chance a Frisian, or, as some authorities claim, the famous
Arminius who triumphed over the Romans.

The Hildenbrandslied relates how Hildebrand, after
spending thirty years in Hungary, returns to North Italy,
leaving behind him a wife and infant son Hadubrand. A
false rumor of Hildebrand 's death reaches Hungary when
Hadubrand has achieved great renown as a warrior, so,
when in quest for adventure the young man meets his
father, he deems him an impostor and fights with him until
the poem breaks off, leaving us uncertain whether father
or son was victorious. But later poets, such as Kaspar von
der Rhon, give the story a happy ending, thus avoiding the
tragic note struck in Sorab and Rustem (p. 410).

There existed so many of these ancient epic songs that
Charlemagne undertook to collect them, but Louis I, his
all too pious son, destroyed this collection on his accession
to the throne, because, forsooth, these epics glorified the
pagan gods his ancestors had worshipped!

Still not all the Teutonic epics are of pagan origin, for
in the second period we find such works as Visions of
Judgment (Muspilli), Lives of Saints, and biblical nar-
ratives like Heliant (the Saviour), Judith, the Exodus,
der Krist by Otfried, and monkish-political works like the
Ludwigslied, or history of the invasion of the Normans.
There is also the epic of Walter von Aquitanien, which,

323

324 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

although written in Latin, shows many traces of German
origin.

In Walther von Aquitanien we have an epic of the
, Burgundian-Hunnish cycle written by Ekkehard of St.
Gall before 973. It relates the escape of Walther von
Aquitanien and his betrothed Hildegund from the court
of Attila, where the young man was detained as a hostage.
After describing their preparations for flight, their method
of travel and camping, the poet relates how they were
overtaken in the Vosges Mountains by a force led by
Gunther and Hagen, who wish to secure the treasures they
are carrying. Warned in time by Hildegund, — ^who keeps
watch while he sleeps, — ^Walther dons his armor, and
single-handed disposes of many foes. When Gunther,
Hagen, and Walther alone survive, although sorely dis-
abled, peace is concluded, and the lovers resume their
journey and reach Aquitania safely, where they reign hap-
pily thirty years.

In the third period "the crusades revived the epic
memories of Charlemagne and Eoland and of the triumphs
of Alexander," thus giving birth to a Eolandslied and an
Alexanderlied, as well as to endless chivaMc epics, or
romances in verse and prose.

The Eolandslied — ^an art epic — gives the marriage and
banishment of Charlemagne's sister Bertha, the birth of
Roland, the manner in which he exacted tribute from his
playmates to procure clothes, his first appearance in his
uncle's palace, his bold seizure of meat and drink from
the royal table to satisfy his mother's needs, Charlemagne's
forgiveness of his sister for the sake of her spirited boy,
the episode regarding the giant warrior in the Ardennes,
the fight with Oliver, the ambush at Roncevaux, and end
with Roland's death and the punishment of the traitor
Ganelon. But later legends claim that Roland, recovering
from the wounds received at Roncevaux, returned to Ger-
many and to his fiancee Aude, who, deeming him dead,
had meantime taken the veil. We next have Roland's

GERMAN EPICS 323

sorrow, the construction of his hermitage at Rolandseck,^
whence he continually overlooks the island of Nonnenworth
and the convent where his beloved is wearing her life away
in prayers for his soul. This cycle concludes with Roland's
death and burial on this very spot, his face still turned
toward the grave where his sweetheart rests.

In the Langobardian cycle ^ also is the tale of " Rother,"
supposed to be Charlemagne 's grandfather, one of the court
epics of the Lombard cycle. In King Rother we have the
abduction by Rother of the emperor's daughter, her recov-
ery by her father, and Rother 's pursuit and final reconquest
of his wife. The next epic in the cycle, ' ' Otnit, ' ' related the
marriage of this king to a heathen princess, her father '.?
gift of dragon's eggs, and the hatching of these monsters,
which ultimately cause the death of Otnit and infest
Teutonic lands with their progeny. Then come the legends
of Hug-Dietrich and Wolf -Dietrich, which continue the
Lombard cycle and pursue the adventures of Otnit to his
death.

The legend of Herzog Ernst is still popular, and relates
how a duke of Bavaria once made a pilgrimage to Jeru-
salem and lived through endless thrilling adventures on
the way.

The greatest of all the German epics is undoubtedly the
Nibelungenlied, — of which we give a synopsis, — ^whieh is
often termed the Iliad of Germany, while "Gudrun" is
considered its Odyssey. This folk epic relates how Hagan,
son of a king, was carried off at seven years of age by a
griffin. But, before the monster or its young could devour
him, the sturdy child effected his escape into the wilder-
ness, where he grew up with chance-found companions.
Rescued finally by a passing ship, these young people are
threatened with slavery, but spared so sad a fate thanks
to Hagan 's courage. Hagan now returns home, becomes
king, and has a child, whose daughter Gudrun is carried
away from father and lover by a prince of Zealand. On

'See the author's "Legends of the Rhine."

' See the author's " Legends of the Middle Ages."

THE BOOK OP THE EPIC

his way home, the kidnapper is overtaken by his pursuers,
and wages a terrible battle on the Wiilpensand, wherein
he proves victorious. But the kidnapper cannot induce
Gudrun to accept his attentions, although he tries hard to
win her love. His mother, exasperated by this resistance,
finally undertakes to force Gudrun to submit by dint of
hardships, and even sends her out barefoot in the snow to
do the family washing. While thus engaged, Gudrun and
her faithful companion are discovered by the princess'
brother and lover, who arrange the dramatic rescue of
the damsels, whom they marry.'

Next in order come the philosophic epies of Wolfram
von Eschenbach, including the immortal Parzifal — which
has been used by Tennyson and Wagner in their poems
and opera — and the poetic tales of Gottfried of Strass-
burg, whose Tristan und Isolde, though unfinished, is a
fine piece of work. Hartmann von der Aue is author of
Erek und Enide, — the subject of Tennyson 'a poem, — of Der
arme Heinrich, — ^whieh served as foundation for Long-
fellow's Golden Legend, — and of Iwein or the Knight with
the Lion.

Among the Minnesingers of greatest note are Walther
von der Vogelweide, Wolfram von Eschenbach, and later,
when their head-quarters were at Niiremberg, Hans Sachs.
Their favorite themes were court epies, dealing especially
with the legends of Arthur, of the Holy Grail, and of
Charles the Great. Many of these epics are embodied
in the Heldenbuch, or Book of Heroes, compiled in the
fifteenth century by Kaspar von der Rhon, while the
Abentuerbuch contains many of these legends as well as
Der Rosengarten and Konig Laurin.

In the second part of the thirteenth century artificiality
and vulgarity began to preponderate, provoking as counter-
weights didactic works such as Der Krieg auf der Wartburg.

" Detailed accounts of " Gudrun " and several other of these
subordinate epics can be found in the author's "Legends of the
Middle Ages."

GERMAN EPICS 327

The fourteenth century saw the rise of the free cities,
literary guilds, and five universities. It also marks the
cultivation of political satire in such works as Reinecke
Puehs, and of narrative prose chronicles like the Liine-
burger, Alsatian, and Thuringian Chronicles, which are
sometimes termed prose epics. The Volksbiicher also date
from this time, and have preserved for us many tales which
would otherwise have been lost, such as the legends of the
Wandering Jew and Dr. Faustus.

The age of Reformation proved too serious for poets
to indulge in any epics save new versions of Reinecke Fuehs
and Der Froschmeuseler, and after the Thirty Years' War
the first poem of this class really worthy of mention is
Klopstock's Messias, or epic in twenty books on the life
and mission of Christ and the fulfilment of the task for
which he was foreordained.

Contemporary with Klopstock are many noted writers,
who distinguished themselves in what is known as the
classic period of German literature. This begins with
Goethe's return from Italy, when he, with Schiller's aid,
formed a classical school of literature in Germany.

While Schiller has given us the immortal epic drama
"William Tell," Goethe produced the idyllic epic "Her-
mann und Dorothea," the dramatical epic "Faust," and an
inimitable version of the animal epic "Reinecke Fuehs."

Wieland also was a prolific writer in many fields; in-
spired by the Arabian Nights, Shakespeare's Midsummer
Night's Dream, and Huon de Bordeaux,* he composed an
allegorical epie entitled "Oberon," wherein "picture
after picture is unfolded to his readers," and which has
since served as a theme for musicians and painters.

Since Goethe's day Wagner has made the greatest and
most picturesque use of the old German epic material, for
the themes of nearly all his operas are drawn from this
source.®

*Bee the author's "Legends of the Middle Ages."
» See the author's " Stories of the Wagner Operas."

?

328 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

THE NIBELUNGENLIED «

The Nibelungenlied, or Song of the Nibelungs, was
written about the beginning of the thirteenth century,
although it relates events dating back to the sixth or
seventh. Some authorities claim it consists of twenty songs
of various dates and origin, others that it is the work of a
single author. The latter ascribe the poem to Conrad von
Kiirenberg, "Wolfram von Eschenbach, Heinrich von
Ofterdingen, or Walther von der Vogelweide. The poem
is divided into thirty-nine "adventures," and contains two
thousand four hundred and fifty-nine stanzas of four lines
each. The action covers a period of about thirty years and
is based on materials taken from the Frankish, Burgundian,
Austro-Gothic, and Hunnish saga cycles.

Dietrich von Bern, one of the characters, is supposed
to be Theodoric of Italy, while Etzel has been identified with
Attila the Hun, and the Gunther with a king of the Bur-
gundians who was destroyed with all his followers by the
Huns in 436.

1st Adventure. Three Burgundian princes dwell at
Worms on the Rhine, where, at the time when the poem
opens their sister Kriemhild is favored by a vision wherein
two eagles pursue a falcon and tear it to pieces when it
seeks refuge on her breast.

^ A dream was dreamt by Kriemhild the virtuous and the gay,
, ^ How a wild young falcon she train'd for many a day,
Yc'" \ Till two fierce eaglea tore it; to her there could not be
^' vf' In all the world such sorrow as this perforce to see.'

/

^

Knowing her mother expert at interpreting dreams,

/■ /^ \ Kriemhild inquires what this means, only to learn that her

f (X ^ I future spouse will be attacked by grim foes. This note of

' \ tragedy, heard already in the very beginning of the poem,

i, is repeated at intervals until it seems like the reiterated

^tolling of a funeral beU.

" See the author's " Legends of the Middle Ages." ,

'All the quotations in this chapter are from Liettsom's trans-
lation of " The Nibelungenlied."

THE NIBELUNGENLIED 329

2d Adventure. The poem now transfers us to Xanten
on the Bhine, where King Siegmund and his wife hold a
tournament for the coming of age of their only son Sieg-
fried, who distinguishes himself greatly and in whose be-
half his mother lavishes rich gifts upon all present.

The gorgeous feast it lasted till the seventh day was o'er;
Si^elind the wealthy did as they did of yore;
She won for valiant Si^fried the hearts of young and old
When for his sake among them she shower'd the ruddy gold.

3d Adventure. Hearing of the beauty of Kriemhild,
Siegfried decides to go and woo her, taking with him only
a troop of eleven men. His arrival at Worms causes a
sensation, and Hagen of Tronje — sl cousin of King Gunther
— ^informs his master that this visitor once distinguished
himself by slaying a dragon and that he is owner of the
vast Nibelungen hoard. This treasure once belonged to
two brothers, who implored Siegfried to divide it between
them, a task he undertook in exchange for the sword —
Bahnung — ^which lay on top of the heap of gold. But no
sooner had he made the division than the brothers mortally
wounded each other and died on their heaps of gold, leaving
their treasure to Siegfried, who thus became the richest
man in the world.

On hearing the new-comer announce he has come to
challenge Gunther to a duel, the Burgundians are dismayed,
but they soon succeed in disarming their guest, and finally
persuade him to remain with them a year, entertaining him
with games and tournaments in which Siegfried dis-
tinguished himself greatly, to the satisfaction of Kriemhild
who witnesses his prowess through a latticed window.

4th Adventure'. Toward the end of Siegfried's visit, it
is reported that the kings of Saxony and Denmark are
advancing Asdth four thousand men. The dismay of the
Burgundians is such that Siegfried proposes to go forth and
overpower the enemy with a force of merely one thousand
men. Only too glad to accept this offer, Gunther allows
Siegfried to depart, and is overjoyed when the young hero

330 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

comes back with two prisoner monarehs in his train. The
messenger who announces Siegfried's triumph is, moreover,
richly rewarded by Kriemhild, who flushes with pleasure
on hearing the praise bestowed upon her hero.

5th Adventure. After describing the tournament held
at Worms in honor of this victory, the poet tells us how
Siegfried and Kriemhild met there face to face, and how
they fell in love with each other at first sight.

Now went she forth, the loveliest, as forth the morning goes
From misty clouds out-beaming; then all his weary woes
Left him, in heart who bore her, and so, long time, had done.
He saw there stately standing the fair, the peerless one.

The result was of course an immediate proposal, which
Gunther was glad to accept in his sister's name.

6th Adventure. He bargained, however, that before
Siegfried claimed his bride he should go with him to Isen-
land, and help him win the hand of Brunhild, the finest
woman in the world. Gunther needs Siegfried's help in
his wooiug, because Brunhild has vowed to marry only the
man who can throw a spear and stone farther than she and
surpass her in jumping. Siegfried, who apparently pos-
sesses some knowledge of this lady, vainly tries to dissuade
Gunther, and, when he decides to accompany him in his
quest, suggests that Hagen and another knight form their
train. Kriemhild provides the travellers with suitable gar-
ments, made by her own hands, and the four embark on a
small vessel, in which they sail down the Rhine and out to
sea, reaching Isenland only twelve days after their start.
As they near this land, Siegfried strictly charges his com-
panions to tell every one he is Gunther 's vassal, and im-
mediately begins to act as if such we#e indeed his real
station.

7th Adventure. Gazing out of her window, Brunhild
perceives the approaching ship, and, recognizing within it
Siegfried, — ^who visited her realm once before, — ^her heart
beats with joy at the thought that he has come to woo her.
She is, however, amazed to see him hold Gunther 's stirrup

THE NIBELUNGENLIED 331

when they land, and to learn it is the king of Burgundy
who sues for her hand. In her disappointment Brunhild
grimly warns the new-eomer that, unless he prove success-
ful, he and his men must die.

" He must cast the stone beyond me, and after it must leap.
Then with me shoot the javelin; too quick a pace you keep;
Stop and awhile consider, and reckon well the cost,"
The warrioresa made answer, " ere life and fame be lost."

Undeterred by this threat, Gunther volunteers to under-
go the test, but he quails when he sees the heavy spear
which Brunhild brandishes and when he perceives that
twelve men stagger beneath the weight she proposes to
throw. He is, however, somewhat reassured when Sieg-
fried whispers he need but go through the motions, while
his friend, concealed by the Tarncappe, — ^the cloak of in-
visibility which endows the wearer with the strength of
twelve men, — ^wiU perform the required feats in his behalf.

Said he, " Off with the buckler and give it me to bear.
Now, what I shall advise thee, mark with thy closest care.
Be it thine to make the gestures, and mine the work to do."
Glad man was then king Gunther, when he his helpmate knew.

In the first test Brunhild casts a spear with such force
that both Gunther and his invisible companion stagger
and nearly fall, but, just as she is about to cry victory,
Siegfried sends back the spear butt-end foremost and
brings her to her knees. Veiling her dismay at this first
defeat, Brunhild hurls the stone to a great distance and
lands beside it with a flying leap. In Gunther 's place the
invisible Siegfried hurls the same stone much farther than
Brunhild, and seizing Gunther by his belt jumps with him
to the spot where it alighted. Having thus been outdone
in all three feats of strength, Brunhild no longer refuses
her hand to Gunther, who appears triumphant, although
his prospective bride looks strangely solemn and angry.

Sth Adventure. Because Brunhild summons to her
castle a large number of warriors, under pretext of cele-
brating her nuptials, Siegfried sails off unseen to the land

332 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

of the Nibelungs, where lie batters at his castle gate de-
manding admittance. As the wary dwarf guardian of the
Nibelung hoard refuses to admit him, Siegfried fights him,
and after conquering him compels him to recognize his
authority. Then he bids a thousand Nibelung warriors
accompany him back to Isenland, and Brunhild, seeing this
force approaching and learning from Gunther it is part of
his suite, no longer dares to resist.

9th Adventure. The fair bride, escorted by all these
men, now sails across the sea and up the Rhine. As they
near Burgundy, Gunther decides to send word of their
arrival, and persuades Siegfried to act as his messenger
by assuring him he wiU earn KriemhUd's gratitude.

Said he, " Nay, gentle Siegfried, do but this journey take.
Not for my sake only, but for my sister's sake.
You'll oblige fair Kriemhild in this as well' as me.''
When so implor'd was Siegfried, ready at once was he.

10th Adventure. Not only does Siegfried receive the
fair lady's hearty thanks, but he acts as her escort when
she hastens down to the bank to welcome her brother and
his bride. The poem then describes the kissing, speeches,
and grand tournament held to welcome Brunhild, as well
as the banquet where Siegfried publicly reminds Gunther
he promised him Kriemhild 's hand as soon as Brunhild was
won. Exclaiming this promise shall immediately be re-
deemed, Gunther sends for his sister, although his new
wife openly wonders he should bestow her hand upon a
mere vassal. Silencing his bride's objections, Gunther con-
fers Kriemhild 's hand upon Siegfried, and thus two bridal
couples sit side by side at the evening meal.

The hour having come for retiring, Gunther, attempting
to embrace his bride, is dismayed to find himself seized,
bound fast, and hung up on a peg, where he dangles all
night in spite of piteous entreaties to be set free. It is
only a moment before the servants enter on the morrow
that Brunhild consents to release her spouse, so when the
bridegrooms appear in public, everybody notices that while

THE NIBELUNGENLIED 333

Siegfried is radiant, Gunther's brow is clouded by a heavy-
frown. In tbe course of tbe day, the King of Burgundy
confides to his new brother-in-law the cause of his dis-
pleasure, whereupon Siegfried promises to don his cloud
cloak that evening and compel Gunther's bride to treat
her husband henceforth with due respect. True to this
promise, Siegfried, unseen, follows Gunther and Brunhild
into their apartment that night, and, the lights having been
extinguished, wrestles with the bride until she acknowledges
herself beaten. Although fancying she is yielding to
Gunther, it is Siegfried who snatches her girdle and ring
before leaving Gunther to reap the benefit of his victory,
for Brunhild, having submitted to a man, loses her former
fabulous strength. Meanwhile Siegfried returns to Kriem-
hild, imprudently relates how he has been occupied, and
bestows upon her the girdle and ring.

11th Adventure. The wedding festivities finished, Sieg-
fried returns to Xanten with his bride, who is escorted
thither by her faithful henchman Ekkewart, who has vowed
to follow her wherever she goes. Siegfried's parents not
only receive the bride cordially, but relinquish their throne
to the young couple, who live together most happily and
are overjoyed at the advent of a son.

12th Adventure. Twelve whole years elapse ere Brun-
hild asks Gunther how it happens his vassal Siegfried has
never yet come to "Worms to do homage ? Although Gunther
now assures his wife Siegfried is a king in his own right,
she nevertheless insists her brother-in-law and his wife
should be invited to "Worms, a suggestion which Gunther
is only too glad to carry out.

13th Adventure. Overjoyed at the prospect of revisit-
ing the scene of their courtship, Siegfried and Kriemhild
return to "Worms, leaving their infant son at home, but
taking with them Siegfried's father who has recently lost
his wife. To honor her sister-in-law, Brunhild welcomes
Kriemhild with the same state that heralded her own en-
trance at Worms. Banquets and tournaments also take
place, whereat the two queens try to outshine each other.

334 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

One day, while sitting together extolling their husband's
virtues, a quarrel arises, during which Brunhild curtly in-
forms Kriemhild her husband can scarcely be as great as she
pretends, seeing he is merely Gunther's vassal!

14th Adventure. Of course Kriemhild hotly denies this,
and, when Brunhild insists, declares she will prove her hus-
band's superiority by. claiming precedence at the church
door. Instigated by wrath, both ladies deck themselves
magnificently and arrive simultaneously to attend mass,
escorted by imposing trains. Seeing Kriemhild make a
motion as if to enter first, Brunhild bids her pause, and
the two ladies begin an exchange of uncomplimentary re-
marks. In the heat of the quarrel, Kriemhild insinuates
that Brunhild granted Siegfried bridal favors, and in proof
thereof exhibits Brunhild's girdle and ring! Brunhild
immediately sends for Gunther, who, helpless between t>vo
angry women, summons Siegfried. Bluntly declaring
wives should be kept in order, Siegfried undertakes to dis-
cipline Kriemhild, provided Gunther will reduce Brunhild
to subjection, and publicly swears he never approached
the Burgundian queen in any unseemly way. In spite of
this public apology, Brunhild refuses to be comforted, and,
as her husband utterly refuses to take active measures to
avenge her, she finally prevails upon her kinsman Hagen
to take up her quarrel. Under the mistaken impression that
she has been grievously wronged by Siegfried, Hagen urges
Gunther to attack his brother-in-law, until the weak king
yields to the pressure thus brought to bear by his angry
wife and kinsman.

None urged the matter further, except that Hagen still
Kept ever prompting Gimther the guiltless blood to spill;
Saying, that, if Siegfried perish'd, his death to him would bring
The sway o'er many a kingdom. Sore mourn'd the wavering king.

IStJi Adventure. A cunning plan is now devised by
Hagen whereby Siegfried is informed that the monarchs
he once conquered have again risen up in rebellion. Of
course Siegfried volunteers to subdue them once more, and

THE NIBELUNGENLIED 335

Kriemhild, hearing he is about to start for war, expresses
great anxiety for his safety. Under pretext of sympathy,
Hagen inquires why Kriemhild feels any dread, seeing her
husband is invuhierable, and learns the secret that Sieg-
fried can be injured in a spot between his shoulders, be-
cause a lime-leaf, sticking fast there, prevented the dragon's
blood from touching that spot.®

" So now I'll tell the secret, dear friend, alone to thee
(For thou, I doubt not, cousin, will keep thy faith with me).
Where sword may pierce my darling, and .death sit on the thrust.
See, in thy truth and honor how full, how firm my trust! "

Under pretext of protecting this vuhierable point, Hagen
persuades Kriemhild to embroider a cross on her husband's
garment over the fatal spot. Then, sure now of triumphing
over this dreaded foe, he feigns the kings have sent word
they will submit, and proposes that instead of fighting they
all go hunting in the Odenwald.

16th Ad/venture. Troubled by strange presentiments,
Kriemhild tries to prevent Siegfried from going to the
chase, but, laughing at her fears, he departs joyfuUy,
although he is never to see her again. After describing
the game slain in the course of this day's hunt, the poet
declares Siegfried captured a live bear and playfully let
it loose in camp, to the horror of his fellow hunters. Then,
feeling thirsty, Siegfried loudly began to call for drink,
and, discovering that owing to a mistake the wine has
been conveyed to another part of the forest, proposes that
he, Gunther, and Hagen should race to a neighboring spring,
undertaking to perform the feat in full armor while his
companions run in light undress. Although handicapped,
Siegfried arrives first, but courteously steps aside to allow
Gunther to take a drink, pretending he wishes to remove
his armor before quenching his thirst. But, when he, in his
turn, stoops over the fountain, Hagen, after slyly remov-
ing his weapons out of his reach, steals up behiad him and
runs a spear into the very spot where the embroidered cross
shines on his doublet. Mortally wounded, Siegfried turns,

' See the author's " Legends of the Rhine."

336 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

and, grasping his shield, hurls it at the traitor with such
f oi;ce that he dashes it to pieces.

E'en to the death though wounded, he iurl'd it with such power

That the whirling buckler scatter'd vide a shower

Of the most precious jewels, then straight in shivers broke.

Full gladly had the warrior ta'en vengeance with that stroke.

Sinking to the ground after this effort, Siegfried ex-
pends his last breath in beseeching Gunther to wateh over
his wife. Gazing down at the corpse, Gunther, afraid to
acknowledge so dastardly a deed, suggests they spread the
report that Siegfried was slain by brigands while hunting
alone in the forest. Hagen, however, proud of his feat,
does not intend to subscribe to this project, and plots
further villainy while following the body back to Worms.

17th Adventure. The funeral train arriving there at
midnight, Hagen directs the bearers to lay Siegfried's body
at Kriemhild's door, so that she may stumble over it when
she comes out at dawn on her way to mass. On perceiving
that the dead body over which she has fallen is that of her
beloved spouse, Kriemhild faints. While her women raise a
mournful cry.

Roused from his slumbers by the terrible news, old
Siegmund joins the mourners, and he and the Nibelung
knights carry the body to the minster, where Kriemhild
insists all those who took part in the hunt shall file past it,
for she hopes thereby to detect her husband's murderer.
(Mediaeval tradition averred that a dead man's wounds
bled whenever his murderer drew near.) Because Sieg-
fried's wounds drop blood at Hagen 's touch, Kriemhild
publicly denounces him as her husband's slayer.

It is a mighty marvel, which oft e'en now we spy,
That, when the blood-stain'd murderer comes to the murder'd nigh.
The wounds break out a bleeding, then too the same befell.
And thus could each beholder the guilt of Hagen tell.

But, instead of showing remorse, Ha^en boldly proclaims
he merely did his duty when he slew the man who cast a
slur upon the honor of his queen.

18th, Adn^enture. Having laid his beloved son to rest.

THE DEAD SIGFRIED BORNE BACK TO WORMS

FTom the painting by Th. Pixis

THE NIBELUNGENLIED 337

old Siegmund returns home, after vainly urging Kriemhild
to leave the place where Siegfried is buried and return to
her son, for, although Kriemhild 's mother and brothers
try to show her every mark of sympathy, Brunhild reveals
no pity.

Meanwhile aat misproud Brunhild in haughtiness undieek'd;

Of Kriemhild's tears and sorrows her it nothing reck'd.

She pitied not the mourner; she stoop'd not to the low.

Soon Kriemhild took full vengeance, and woe repaid with woe.

19th Adventure. Three years elapse before Hagen sug-
gests to Gunther that his sister send for the Nibelung hoard
which was given her on her marriage. Intending to em-
ploy it to buy masses and avengers for Siegfried, Kriem-
hild gladly consents, and we are told twelve wagons travelled
four nights and days to convey the store of gold from the
Nibelung castle to the sea, whence it was carried to Kriem-
hild at Worms. With such a treasure at her disposal, the
widowed queen proceeds to win so many adherents that
Hagen, deeming this gold may prove dangerous, advises
her brothers to take possession of it. No sooner have they
done so than, fearing lest they may restore it to Kriemhild,
Hagen buries it in the Rhine, telling none but his masters
in what place it is hidden.

20th Ad/venture. Having lost his first wife, Etzel, king
of Hungary, now deems it advisable to marry again and
secure an heir to his realm. As no other woman seems so
fitted for so exalted a station as Kriemhild, Etzel sends
his chief nobleman, Rudiger, to Worms with his proposal.
After tarrying a few days on the way with his wife and
daughter, this ambassador hurries to Worms, where he is
welcomed by Hagen, who had formerly spent several years
as a hostage at Etzel 's court. Rudiger having made his
errand known, Gunther beseeches three days' time to ascer-
tain his sister's wishes. Mattered by the prospect of such
an alliance, Gunther hopes Kriemhild will accept Etzel 's
proposal, but Hagen rejoins that should she secure such
powerful allies, she might in time punish thsm for Sieg-

22

388 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

fried 's death. At first the widowed Kriemhild refuses to
listen to Etzel's offers, but, when Eudiger swears to avenge
her past or future Ilk, she suddenly announces her consent.

Then swore to her Sir Eudiger and all his knightly train
To serve her ever truly, and all her rights maintain,
Nor e^er of her due honors scant her in Etzel's land.
Thereto gave the good margrave th' assurance of his hand.

Then thought the faithful mourner, "with such a host of friends
Now the poor lonely widow may work her secret ends.
Nor care for what reflections the world on her may cast.
What if my lost beloved I may revenge at last? "

Then, still escorted by the faithful Ekkewart and carry-
ing off with her the small portion of the Nibelungen treasure
which she still retains, Kriemhild starts out for Hungary.

21st Adventure. The three Burgundian princes escort
their sister to the Danube and, taking leave of her there,
allow her to proceed with Eudiger to Passau, where her
uncle, Bishop Pilgrin, gives her a warm welcome. Thence
the travellers proceed to Eudiger 's castle, where his wife
and daughter entertain their future queen, who bestows
upon them costly treasures. Eesuming her journey, Kriem-
hild is now met on all sides by the ovations of her future
subjects,

23d Adventure. When Etzel and his chief noblemen
finally meet her, Kriemhild courteously kisses her future
spouse, as well as the men whom he points out as worthy
of such distinction. Among these is Dietrich of Bern,
one of the heroes of the poem, and it is under his escort
that the king and queen of Hungary proceed to Vienna,
where their marriage festivities last seventeen days.

23d Adventure. Seven years elapse, and, although
Kriemhild has a son by Etzel, she still grieves for Sieg-
fried and continually broods over her wrongs. One day
she suddenly suggests that King Etzel invite her kinsmen
to Hungary, and, when he consents, gives special instruc-
tions to the bards who bear the message to make sure that
Hagen accompanies her brothers.

24th Adventure. After fourteen days* journey the

THE NIBELUNGENLIED 339

minstrels reach. Worms and deliver their message. All are
in favor of accepting this invitation save Hagen, who re-
marks that such friendliness seems suspicious. When his
master retorts a guilty conscience harbors fear, Hagen
stoutly avers he is ready to serve as guide, suggesting, how-
ever, that they journey fully armed, with an escort of a
thousand men, so as to cope with treachery should such
occur.

"Turn, while there's time for safety, turn, warriors most and
least;
For this, and for this only, you're bidden to the feast.
That you perforce may perish in Etzel's bloody land.
Whoever rideth thither. Death ias he close at hand."

25th Adventure. Dismissed with the old queen's bless-
ing, the Burgundians leave Brunhild and her son in charge
of a steward, and set out. As they are now sole possessors
of the great Nibelung hoard, the poet terms them Nibelungs
in the remainder of his work. Under the guidance of
Hagen, who alone knows the way, the party reaches the
banks of the Danube, where, finding no vessels to ferry
them across, Hagen bids them wait until he provide means
of transportation. Walking down the river, he surprises
three swan-maidens bathing, and by capturing their gar-
ments induces them to predict the future. Although one
promises him all manner of pleasant things to recover her
plumes, her companions, having secured theirs, warn Hagen
that none but the priest will return safely to Burgundy,
and inform him that he can secure a boat by assuring the
ferry-man on the opposite bank that his name is Amalung.

Thanks to this hint, Hagen induces the ferry-man to
cross the river and springs into his boat, before the man,
discovering the trick, attacks him with his oar. Forced to
defend himself, Hagen slays the ferry-man, takes possession
of his boat, and then proceeds to convey relays of the
Burgundian army across the river. During his last trip,
perceiving the chaplain on board and wishing to give the
lie to the swan-maidens' prophecy, Hagen flings the priest

340 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

into the water; but the long ecclesiastical garments buoy
up their wearer and enable him to regain the bank which
he has just left, whence he makes his way -back to Burgundy.
On perceiving the priest's escape, Hagen realizes none of
the rest will return, so grimly destroys the boat as soon
as he is through with it. Then he directs his friends to ride
onward, leaving him to guard their rear, for he knows the
boatman's friends will pursue and attack them.

26th, Adventure. Although Hagen 's apprehensions are
soon justified, the Burgundians fight so bravely that their
assailants are defeated. A little farther on they find a man
sleeping by the roadside, and discover it is Ekkewart, lying
in wait to warn them that Kriemhild cherishes evil in-
tentions. But, undeterred by this warning also, the Bur-
gundians continue their journey, and visit Bishop Pilgrin
and Rudiger on their way.

27th Adventure. While at Eudiger's, — ^where the ladies
welcome all save Hagen with a kiss, and where the host
lavishes gifts upon his guests, — Hagen suggests that a
marriage be arranged between Giseler, the youngest Bur-
gundian prince, and Eudiger's daughter. In compliance
with this suggestion, a formal betrothal takes place.

Then had the bride and bridegroom within a ring to stand.
For such was then the custom; a merry stripling band
Encircled the fair couple, and gaz'd on them their fill.
And thought the while as idly as think young people still.

This ceremony over, Eudiger prepares to guide the
Burgundians to Btzel's court, where Kriemhild is rejoic-
ing to think they will soon appear.

28th Adventure. So patent are Kriemhild 's evil in-
tentions, that Dietrich of Bern and his faithful henchman
Hildebrand also caution the Burgundians to be on their
guard. This second warning impresses the visitors, who
at Hagen 's suggestion announce they will retain their
weapons for three days. When they arrive at the palace,
Kriemhild cordially embraces her youngest brother, but
refuses the same welcome to the two others, and grimly

THE NIBELUNGENLIED 341

a^is Hagen whether he has brought her gold. When he
bluntly rejoins her treasures will remain in the Rhine until
Doomsday, she abruptly turns her back upon him, and in-
vites the rest to enter the palace, leaving their arms at the
door. Thereupon Hagen announces his masters have vowed
to spend the next three days in arms, a measure which
Dietrich openly approves, informing Kriemhild to her very
face that he is sure she means no good.

29th Adventure. Although the three royal brothers
accompany Kriemhild into the palace, Hagen lingers at
the door, and, inviting the minstrel Volker to sit on the
bench beside him, confides to him his fears, entreating him
to stand by him, and promising to do the same in his behalf
should the need occur.

" Tell me now, friend Volker, will you stand me by.
If these men of Kriemhild's would my mettle try?
Show me, if you love me, faithful friend and true!
And when you need my service I'll do as much for you."

On seeing her foe so close at hand, Kriemhild summons
four hundred warriors, and bids them attack Hagen, for at
present he is the only one against whom she has sinister
designs. To prove to the men that Hagen is guilty, she
offers to meet and question her foe in their presence. On
seeing her coming, Volker suggests they rise in token of
respect, but Hagen grimly rejoins Kriemhild would merely
take such politeness as a proof of weakness. Instead of
rising, he therefore ostentatiously lays Siegfried's sword
across his lap. After taunting Hagen with slaying her
husband, — a charge he does not deny, — ^Kriemhild orders
her men to slay him, but a single glance of his fiery eyes
sends them back cringing, and the queen cannot prevail
upon them to renew the attack. Seeing this, Volker and
Hagen boldly join their friends in the banquet-hall, where
Btzel — who is depicted as an inoffensive, unsuspicious old
man — cordially bids them welcome.

30th Adventure. On their way to their sleeping quarters
that night, the Burgundians are jostled by some Huns, who,
instigated by Kriemhild, are evidently seeking to provoke a

342 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

quarrel. In spite of their efforts, however, the Burgundians
reach their dormitory ia safety, where Hagen and Volker
watch all night at the door to guard against surprise. It
is well for them they do so, because at midnight Kriemhild
dispatches a force to attack them, but again the Huns
shriak away appalled on meeting Hagen 's menacing glance.

31st Ad/venture. At dawn the Burgundians, still fully
armed, march off to church, and after service proceed with
the king and queen to view a tournament held in their
honor. In these games Rudiger and Dietrich both refuse
to take part, lest an accident should occur. Their pre-
visions are justified, for, when Volker inadvertently slays
a Hun, Kriemhild loudly clamors for vengeance, although
her husband implores that peace be maintained. Fomented
by Kriemhild 's secret efforts, such bad feelings have arisen
among the Huns against their guests, that Etzel's own
brother finally undertakes to compass their death. Mean-
time the old king, having invited the Burgundians to a
banquet, is surprised to see the princes arrive fully armed,
but tries to show his friendship by promising they shaU
bring up his son.

32d Adventure. While the Burgundians are banqueting
with the king of Hungary, their men are resting in the
hall where they slept, under the charge of Dankwart,
Hagen 's brother. There they are suddenly attacked by
some Huns, and, although they manage to slay most of
their first assailants, the deaths they deal kindle lasting
animosity in the breast of the rest of the Huns. New
forces therefore press into the haU, until all the Bur-
gundians are slain, save Dankwart, who, cutting his way
through the enemy's serried ranks, rushes into the hall
where his brother is feasting, and reports what has occurred.

" Be stirring, brother Hagen, you're sitting all too long.
To you and God in heaven our deadly strait I plain;
Yeomen and knights together lie in their quarters slain."

33d Adventure. No sooner has this cry reached his ear,
than Hagen, whipping out his sword, cuts off the head of

THE NIBELUNGENLIED 343

Etzel's child, which bounces into its nwJther's lap. Then,
calling to his brother to prevent any escape, Hagen shears
off the hand of the minstrel who invited them to Hungary,
before he begins slashing right and left. Paralyzed by
the sight of their headless son, Etzel and Kriemhild sit
immovable on their thrones, while Hagen despatches Volker
to help Dankwart guard the door, and bids his masters
make use of their weapons while they may. Although the
Burgundians now slay ruthlessly, mindful of the kind-
ness shown by Dietrich and Rudiger they refrain from
attacking them or their men. When these noblemen there-
fore beg permission to pass out safely with their friends,
their request is unquestionably granted. Grasping the king
and queen by the hand, Dietrich then leads them out of the
hall, closely followed by Rudiger and their respective men,
while the Burgundians continue the massacre until not a
living foe is left in the hall.

34th Adventure. Weary of slaughter, the Burgundians
now sit down for a moment to rest, but, finding the presence
of so many corpses distasteful, they fling §even hundred
victims down the steps, those who are merely wounded being
killed by the fall. The Huns, who come to pick up their
dead, now set up so loud and persistent a cry for revenge,
that their monarch is compelled to prepare a force to oust
the Burgundians from his banquet-hall. Seeing the aged
monarch himself advance at the head of the troops, Hagen,
who guards the door, loudly jeers at him, whereupon Krirai-
hild offers an immense reward to any one who will bring
her his head.

35th 'Adventure. The first to try to earn this guerdon
is a Dane, who not only succeeds in entering the hall but
in effecting a retreat. When, emboldened by this first suc-
cess, he advances a second time with a new force, he is
killed as well as his men.

36th Adventure. After a second brief rest, the Bur-
gundians prepare to meet a new assault directed by Kriem-
hild, whose wrath now involves all her kinsmen, although
at first she meditated the death of Hagen alone. The

344 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

murder of his child has incensed even Eteel, and the Huns
plan a general massacre to avenge their slain. Although
the Burgundians offer to meet Etzel's forces in fair fight,
provided they can return home unmolested if victorious,
Kriemhild urges her husband to refuse unless Hagen is
delivered up to their tender mercies. Deeming it dishonor-
able to forsake a companion, the Burgundians reject these
terms, whereupon Kriemhild, whose fury has reached a
frantic point, orders the hall set on fire.

Although the queen fancies the Burgundians will be
roasted alive, the hall being built of stone offers them a
place of refuge, and, as they quench in blood all the sparks
that enter, they succeed in maintaining their position.

'T was 'vrell for the Burgundians that vaulted was the roof;
This was, in all their danger, the more to their behoof.
Only about the windows from fire they suffer'd sore.
Still, as their spirit impell'd them, themselves they bravely bore.

The intensity of the heat causes such thirst, however, that
Hagen bids his companions quench that too in the blood
of the slain. Thus, six hundred Burgundians are found
alive when a new Hungarian force bursts into the hall.

37th, Adventure. Having failed in this third attempt,
Kriemhild reminds Eudiger of his solemn oath, and bids
him redeem his promise by slaying the Burgundians.
Although this nobleman pleads with the queen, offering in-
stead to relinquish* aU? he owns and leave her land a beggar,
she insists upon his obedience to her commands. Fully
armed, Eudiger, therefore, finally marches toward the hall
and, arriving at the foot of the staircase, explains his posi-
tion to the Burgundians. Knowing his generosity, Hagen,
whose shield has been cut to pieces, begs for the one Eudiger
carries, and, after receiving it, declares he will give a good
account of himself before he yields. The signal for battle
is then given and Eudiger and his men enter the hall, where,
after many have fallen on both sides, Gemot, one of Kriem-
hild's brothers, and Eudiger slay each other.

38th Adventure. A new batch of corpses having been

THE NIBELUNGENLIED 345

flung down stairs, such a lament arises anuong the Huns
that Dietrich of Bern inquires what it may mean. On
learning that Rudiger has been slain, Dietrich bids Hilde-
brand go and claim' his corpse, but, instead of acting merely
as ambassador, this warrior first bandies words with Volker
and then slays him. Seeing .this, Hagen drives him down
the stairs, and discovers that all the Burgundians have now
been slain, and that he and Gunther alone remain alive
in the hall. Meantime Hildebrand having reported to
Dietrich all that has occurred, this chief, hearing most of
his men have perished, sallies forth to avenge them.

39th Adventure. On approaching the hall, Dietrich
summons Hagen and Gunther to surrender, promising to
use his influence to secure their safe return home ; but the
two Burgundians, feeling sure Kriemhild will show no
mercy, refuse to yield. A duel, therefore, takes place be-
tween Dietrich and the exhausted Hagen, in the course of
which, by means of a sudden feint, Dietrich seizes and binds
his foe. Then, leading him to Kriemhild, he implores her
to be merciful to this prisoner, while he returns to secure
Gunther also.

" Fair and noble Kriemhild," thus Sir Dietrich spake,
"Spare this captive warrior who full amends will make

For all his past transgressions; him here in bonds you see;

Revenge not on the fetter'd th' offences of the free."

While Dietrich is securing Gunther in the same way,
the queen, left alone with Hagen, again demands her treas-
ures. Hagen rejoins that, having promised never to reveal
their hiding-place as long as his lords live, he cannot reveal
the secret to her. Hearing this statement, Kriemhild, whose
cruelty now knows no bounds, orders Gunther — ^her last
brother — slain, and herself carries his head to Hagen, as
proof there ia no more reason for guarding the secret.
Proudly informing her, since it now depends upon him
alone, it will remain secret forever, Hagen so exasperates
Kriemhild that, drawing from its scabbard the sword which
once belonged to Siegfried, she hews off her prisoner's head

346 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

with one revengeful stroke ! Although neither her husband
nor Hildebrand have been quick enough to forestaU this
crime, the latter is so exasperated by Kriemhild's cruelty
that he now slays her in his turn.

Hildebrand the aged, fierce on Kriemhild sprung;

To the death he smote her as his sword he swung.

Sudden and remorseless he his wrath did wreak.

What could then avail her her fearful thrilling shriek?

It is, therefore, in the presence of her corpse that Dietrich
and Etzel utter the loud lament with which the Nibelungen-
lied closes.

There is, however, another poem called the Nibelungen-
klage, or the Lament of the Nibelungs, wherein Etzel,
Dietrich, Hildebrand, Bishop Pilgrin, and the rest utter
successive laments over the slain. Then the spoil of the
Burgundians is sent back to "Worms, where these lamenta-
tions are continued, each mourner reciting the deeds of the
man whose fate he bewails. This poem is, however, greatly
inferioB to the real Nibelungenlied, and was evidently not
composed by the same bard.

" 'T is more than I can tell you what afterward befell.
Save that there was weeping for friends belov'd so well
Knights and squires, dames and damsels, were seen lamenting all.
So here I end my story. This is the Nibelungers' Fall.

STORY OF THE HOLY GRAIL

The Anglo-Norman trouveres rightly considered the
Story of the Holy Grail the central point of interest of
the Arthurian cycle, or the grand climax in the legend.

So many versions of the tale have been written by poets
of dififerent nationalities and different ages — all of whom
have added characteristic touches to the story — that, in-
stead of following the text of any one particular version,
a general outline of the two principal Holy Grail legends
will be given here. Although all the poets do not mention
the origin of the Holy Grail, or sacred vessel, a few trace
its 'history back to the very beginning. They claim that

STORY OP THE HOLY GRAIL 347

when Lucifer stood next to the Creator, or Father, in the
heavenly hierarchy, the other angels presented him with
a wonderful crown, whose central jewel was a flawless
emerald of unusual size.

The advent of the Son, relegating Lucifer to the third
instead of the second place, occasioned his apostasy, which,
as Milton explains, was followed by war in heaven and by
the expulsion of the rebel angels. During his fall from
the heights of heaven to the depths of hell, the emerald,
dropping out of Satan's crown, fell upon earth. There it
was fashioned into the cup or dish which Our Lord used
during the Last Supper, and in which Joseph of Arimathea
caught a few drops of blood which flowed from His side.
After the Crucifixion the Jews walled Joseph alive in a
prison, where he was sustained in good health and spirits
by the Holy Grail, which he had taken with him. In this
prison Joseph lingered until Vespasian, hearing the story
of Christ's passion, sent messengers to Palestine for relies,
hoping they might cure his son Titus of leprosy. Restored
to health by the sight of St. Veronica's handkerchief, —
which had wiped away the bloody sweat from Our Lord's
brow and bore the imprint of his feature, — Titus proceeded
to Jerusalem, where he summoned the Jews to produce the
body of Christ. Not being able to comply, they accused
Joseph of having stolen it. Thereupon Titus, continuing
his investigations, found Joseph alive and well in the prison
where he was supposed to have perished. Free once more,
yet dreading further persfecution, Joseph embarked, with
his sister and brother-in-law Brons, in a vessel bound for
Marseilles, the Holy- Grail supplying all their needs during
the journey. On landing in France, Joseph was divinely
instructed to construct a table, around which he and his
companions could be seated, and where the Holy Grail sup-
plied each guest with the food he preferred. But one seat
at this table, in memory of Judas, was to remain empty
until a sinless man came to occupy it. A sinner, once
attempting to seat himself in it, was swallowed up by the
earth, and Joseph was informed that the enchanter Merlin

348 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

would in time make a similar table, where a descendant of
Brons would have the honor of occupying this "Siege
Perilous." From Marseilles, by gradual stages, and meet-
ing with every kind of adventure on the way, Joseph, or
his descendants, conveyed the Holy Grail to Glastonbury,
in England, where it remained visible lontil people became
too sinful for it to dwell any more in their midst. It was
then borne off to Sarras, an island city, — ^presumably located
in the Mediterranean, — ^where, according to one legend.
King Evelake mounted guard over the treasure.

According to another legend, a pilgrim knight laid a
golden cross on the Holy Sepulchre, ardently praying for
a son, whom at his birth he named Titurel and dedicated
to the service of the Lord. After this Titurel had spent
years in warfare against the Saracens and in doing good
to the poor, an angel announced to him that he had been
chosen to guard the Holy Grail, which was about to descend
once more to earth, and take up its abode on Montsalvatch.
This vision suflSeed to send Titurel off on a quest for the
Holy Mountain, — ^which some authorities identify with the
place of the same name on the east coast of Spain, —
whither he was safely led by a guiding cloud.

After ascending the steep mountain, Titurel was fav-
ored with a glimpse of the Holy Grail, and he and a number
of knights — also brought thither by miraculous means —
erected a marvellous temple, whose foundations were laid
by the angels, who labored at the edifice while the volunteer
builders were at rest. In a marvellously short time a temple
of transcendent beauty was thus finished, and, as soon as
it was consecrated, the Holy Grail stole down from heaven
on a beam of celestial light, to abide in its midst. Titurel,
king and guardian of the Holy Grail, always presided at
the table around which his knights gathered, and where
one and all were miraculously fed. Besides, there appeared
from time to time on the edge of the sacred vase, in letters
of fire, instructions bidding a knight go out into the world
to defend some innocent person or right some wrong. The
Knights of the Holy Grail, or Templars, as they were in-

STORY OF THE HOLY GRAIL 349

differently styled, then immediately sallied forth to fulfil
this behest, which according to their vows had to be accom-
plished without revealing their name or origin. Once the
command was that Titurel should marry, whereupon he
wooed a Spanish maiden, by whom he had a son and daugh-
ter. This son, marrying in the same way, had in time two
sons and three daughters, one of whom became the mother
of Parzival.

Old and weary of reigning, Titurel finally resigned the
care of the Holy Grail, first to his son, — who was slain in
war, — and then to his grandson Amfortas. But the latter
proved restless also, went out into the world, and, instead
of serving the Holy Grail, lived a life of pleasure and ad-
venture. "Wounded by a thrust from a poisoned lance, —
some authors claim it was the one which wounded the
Saviour's side, — ^Amfortas sadly returned to Montsalvatch,
where the mere thought of the veiled Holy Grail increased
his pain by intensifying his remorse. There, one day, he
read on the rim of the cup, that his wound was destined to
be healed by a guileless fool, who would accidentally climb
the mountain and, moved by sympathy, would inquire the
cause of his suffering and thereby make it cease.

We have already mentioned the fact that Parzival was
a great-grandson of Titurel ; his mother, fearing he would
die young, like his father, were he to become a knight,
brought him up in seclusion, telling him nothing about
knights, fighting, or the world. Straying in the forest one
day this youth encountered a couple of knights, whom he
mistook for angels, owing to their bright array, and offered
to worship. The knights, however, refused his homage, and
good-naturedly advised him to hasten to Arthur's court
and learn to become a knight too.

Parzival now left his mother, — ^who died of grief,— went
to court (meeting sundry adventures on the way), and
there asked to be knighted. He was told, however, he must
first procure a horse and armor, whereupon he followed
and slew an insolent knight who defied King Arthur. But
Parzival did not know how to remove the armor from his

350 THE BOOK OP THE EPIC

dead foe, until a passing knight obligingly showed him how
it was done.

Parzival now spent a time of apprenticeship at court,
where he learned among other things, that a knight should
never be unduly inquisitive, then went to the rescue of a
persecuted and virtuous queen, whom he wooed and mar-
ried. He soon left her, however, to visit his mother, of
whose death he was not aware. On his way home Parzival
came to a lake, where a richly dressed fisherman informed
him he might find a night's lodging in the castle on the
hill, where he offered to conduct him. Thus Parzival pene-
trated into the castle on Montsalvatch and was duly led
into the banqueting hall. Awed by the splendor of his sur-
roundings, the young candidate for knighthood silently
noted that his host seemed to be suffering from a secret
wound, and perceived that all the other guests were op-
pressed by overwhelming sadness. Then suddenly the doors
opened wide, and a strange procession entered the hall,
slowly circled around the table, and again passed out! In
this procession marched a servant bearing a bloody lance, at
the sight of which all present groaned, then came maidens
carrying the stand for the Holy Grail, which was reverently
brought in by Titurel's grand-daughter. The vase was, how-
ever, closely veiled, and it was only after repeated en-
treaties from the knights present that the host unveiled it,
uttering the while heart-rending groans.

All present were now served with the food they most
desired, which they ate in silence, and then the knights
marched out of the hall, gazing reproachfully at Parzival,
who silently wondered what all this might mean. His
hunger sated, Parzival was conducted to luxurious sleeping
apartments, but, when he was ready to leave on the morrow,
all the castle seemed deserted, and it was only when he had
crossed the drawbridge and it had been raised behind him,
that a harsh voice was heard vehemently cursing him.
Shortly after, on learning that a sympathetic inquiry would
have dispelled the gloom in the palace, he had just left,
Parzival attempted to return, but the mysterious castle was

STORY OF THE HOLY GRAH. 351

no longer to be found. Sueh was our hero's remorse for hia
sin of omission that he continued the quest for years, doing
meanwhile all manner of noble and heroic deeds. In re-
ward, he was knighted by Arthur himself, and bidden by
Merlin occupy "the Siege Perilous" where his name sud-
denly appeared in letters of gold.

Our version of the story explains that, just as he was
about to sit down in the Siege Perilous, the witch Kundrie
arrived, and hotly denounced him as an unfeeling wretch,
a sufficient reminder to make Parzival immediately renew
his quest. Adequate penance having been done at last, and
the young knight having stood every test without losing his
purity, Parzival was finally allowed to atone for his uncon-
scious fault. Once more he arrived at the castle, once more
entered the banquet hall, and once more beheld the mystic
procession. Strengthened by silent prayer, Parzival then
asked the momentous question ; whereupon Amf ortas ' wound
was instantly healed, the aged Titurel released from the
pain of living, Kundrie baptized, and Parzival unanimously
hailed as future guardian of the Grail, an office he humbly
yet proudly assumed.

Another legend claims that his son Lohengrin, ordered
by the Holy Grail to go and defend Elsa of Brabant, re-
ceived from his father a magic horn, by means of which
he was to announce his safe arrival at his destination, and
to summon help whenever he wished to return. Instead of
riding a charger, Lohengrin was conveyed in a swan-drawn
skiff to Brabant, where he found Elsa prajmig for a cham-
pion to defend her against Frederick of Telramund's accu-
sation of having slain her little brother, who had mysteri-
ously disappeared.

Lohengrin, having proved the. falsity of the charge by
defeating the accuser in a judicial duel, married Elsa,
warning her she must never seek to discover his name or
origin, under penalty of seeing him depart as suddenly as
he had arrived. The machinations of Frederick of Telra-
mund, and of his artful wife, finally drove Elsa to pro-
pound the fatal question, and, as soon as Lohengrin has

352 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

sorrowfully answered it, the swan appeared and bore Mm
away! But, as Lohengrin departed, Elsa's brother reap-
peared to serve as her protector.®

This — ^mostly German — ^version of the Grail legend —
has been used by Wolfram von Eschenbach for a long and
famous epic, and by Wagner for his operas Parzival and
Lohengriu. In the French and particularly in the English
versions of the Quest for the Holy Grail, or Sangreal, Per-
eival is with the other knights of Arthur's Round Table
when they take this vow. He seeks for it, perceives it
through a veil, but never entirely achieves the quest, since
that privilege is reserved for the peerless Galahad.

The versions of the Holy Grail Story of which Galahad
is hero run about as follows : Galahad is the son of Launee-
lot and Elaine, the latter 's nurse having, by means of
enchantment, made her to appear as Guinevere — whom
Launcelot loved. Deserted by the accidental father of her
coming child, this Blaine — daughter of King Pelles — ^took
refuge in a nunnery, where she gave birth to Galahad, whom
when dying she entrusted to the nuns. Brought up by
those holy women and strengthened in early infancy by
frequent glimpses of the Holy Grail, — ^whose light was blind-
ing to all but the perfectly pure, — ^Galahad reached man-
hood as pure as when he was bom. One day Sir Launcelot
and Sir Bors were summoned from Camelot to a small
church near by, to act as sponsors for a young candidate
for knighthood, who was presented to them by some nims.
Launcelot and Bors, having thus heard Galahad take his
vows, were not surprised to see him brought into their
midst on a gala day, by Merlin or by the spirit of Joseph,
and to hear him warmly welcomed by Arthur. Some ver-
sions claim that Galahad, led to the Siege Perilous, found his
name miraculously inscribed on it in letters of gold, and
was told he alone should occupy that place at the Round
Table.

According to some accounts, it was while all the knights
were thus seated around Arthur's board on this occasion,

' See the author's " Stories of the Wagner Operas " and " Legends
of the Rhine."

STORY OF THE HOLY GRAH. 353

that the Holy Grail suddenly appeared in their midst, its
radiance so veiled by its coverings that one and all vowed
— ^when it had disappeared— never to rest until they had
beheld it unveiled. Arthur, knowing this boon would be
granted only to the absolutely pure and that they were all
but one sinful men in various degrees, keenly regretted
they should have made a vow which would entail a hopeless
quest, and would at the same time leave him bereft of the
very knights who had hitherto helped him to right the
wrong and keep the pagans at bay. The knights hastened
to church to receive a blessing before they departed, and
then went off, singly or in small groups, to seek the Holy
Grail.

When Galahad arrived at Arthur's court, he was fully
armed, save that an empty scabbard hung by his side and
that he bore no shield. Soon after his arrival, a servant
breathlessly announced he had just seen a large block of
stone floating down the river, into which a beautiful sword
was thrust to the hilt. On hearing this, Arthur and his
knights hurried down to the landing place, but, although
the stone paused there, neither the king nor any of the
nobles at his court were able to draw out the sword. It
became evident it was intended for Galahad only, when he
easily drew it out of the stone. It was then, according to
this version, that the other knights pledged themselves to
go in quest of the Holy Grail. Riding off alone, Galahad
came to an abbey, where hung a white shield bearing a red
cross, which he learned had once belonged to the king of
Sarras, who was converted by Joseph's son. The red cross
was drawn with blood, and was to remain undimmed for its
future bearer, Galahad.

The young champion, thus completely equipped, rode
off and next arrived at the enchanted Castle of the Holy
Grail. There he saw Titurel, the sleeping king, and Am-
fortas, the acting king, before whom the Grail passed un-
seen because he had sinned. Silently Galahad watched the
mystic procession of bleeding spear, miraculous dish or cup,
and Seven-branched Candlesticks. Like Parzival he hesi-

23

354 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

tated to ask any questions, and failed to achieve the Holy
Grail, because, although possessing all other virtues, he
could not entirely forget himself for the sake of others,
and thus lacked true sympathy or altruism. Thrust out
of the Castle — ^like Parzival — ^he wandered through a
blighted country, where he met the Loathley Damsel, who
in punishment for her sins was turned loose into the world
to work evil to men. She hotly reviled Galahad for not
having asked the momentous question, and the youth, learn-
ing thus in what way he had been wanting, solemnly vowed
to return to the castle and atone for his omission.

But meantime the enchanted Castle had vanished, and
Galahad, the Champion of Purity, — ^whose red color he
always wears, — ^travelled through the world, righting the
wrong. He arrived thus at the gate of a castle defended
by seven knights, — ^the Seven Deadly Sins, — with whom he
struggled to such good purpose that he defeated them, and
was free to enter into the Castle of the Maidens, or place
where the Active Virtues have long been kept in durance
vile. But, the door still being locked, Galahad was glad to
receive the key proffered by an old monk, who, in the legend,
personified Righteousness.

Galahad, the emblem of a pure soul, now penetrated
into the castle, where the maidens blessed him for setting
them free, and where he modestly received their thanks.
Among these maidens was Lady Blanchefleur, Galahad's
match in purity, to whom he bade farewell as soon as their
nuptials were solemnized, for he realized The Quest could
be achieved only by a virgin knight.

Once more Galahad rides through the world, and this
time he again finds and enters into the castle of the Grail,
where he once more beholds the Sacred Mysteries. His
heart full of sympathy for the suffering Amfortas, he now
overlooks the rules of formal politeness in his desire to
help, and propounds the decisive question. Immediately a
refulgent light shines forth from the veiled Grail in all its
life-giving radiance, and King Amfortas, healed of his sin,
and hence able to see the vessel, dies of joy, just as an angel

STORY OF THE HOLY GRAIL 355

bears the priceless treasure away from the Enchanted
Castle, where it is no longer to sojourn.

Longing for the time when he too can see the Grail un-
veiled, Galahad remounts his milk-white steed and rides
through the world, where everybody thanks him for freeing
the world of the pall of darkness and sin which has rested
upon the land ever since Amfortas, titulary guardian of
the Holy Grail, sinned so grievously. Riding thus, Galahad
comes at last to the sea, where King Solomon's ship awaits
him. This vessel has been miraculously preserved for this
purpose, and sent here to convey him safely to Sarras,
"the spiritual place." It is the present home of the Holy
Grail, which had already sojourned there after the death
of Joseph of Arimathea.

The ship in which Galahad embarks is steered by an
angel, one of the Guardians of the Holy Grail, and the cup
it holds, although closely veiled from profane glances, casts
beams of refulgent light upon Galahad and his companions
Sir Percival and Sir Bors. They two, however, not being
perfectly pure, cannot clearly distinguish the Grail, whose
sight fills the soul of Galahad with ineffable rapture. Be-
fore long the ship arrives at Sarras, the fabulous city, where
Galahad can hang up his sword and shield and take his
well-earned rest, for the Quest is at last achieved! The
travellers are welcomed by an old man, and, when the king
of Sarras dies, the people unanimously elect Galahad their
next ruler.

After governing them wisely for a year, Galahad — ^who
prayed in King Solomon's ship that he might pass out of
the world whenever he should ask it — ^begged for the death
of the body so he might find the eternal life of the soul.

When he died, the Holy Grail, which had been piously
guarded in Sarras, returned to heaven, for Galahad's work
was finished on earth, as is indicated by the frescos of the
Boston library, where angels guard a Golden Tree of
achievement whose branches reach right up into heaven.

EPICS OF THE NETHERLANDS

In searehiag among Dutch masterpieces of literature,
we find that their greatest epic is "Joannes Boetgezant,"
or John the Messenger of Repentance. This epic in six
books, on the life of John the Baptist, was written in 1662
by Vondel, and bears many traits of resemblance to Milton's
Paradise Lost.

It has been conjectured that the most famous of all the
animal epics or beast fables originated in Flanders or
Luxembourg, which for a time was included in the Low
Countries. This epic, which has been translated into every
European langua^ and has even found its way into the
Far East, has been frequently remodelled. The oldest ex-
tant MS. in Latin dates back to the eleventh or twelfth
century. Among modem versions the most clever, finished,
and popular is Goethe's "Eeineeke Fuchs."^

In this poem he describes how the animals assemble at
"Whitsuntide to complain to their king, Noble, the Lion,
about the dark deeds of Reynard the Fox. The main griev-
ance is that of Isegrim, the Wolf, who claims Reynard
blinded three of his offspring and insulted his wife. Speak-
ing French, the Lapdog "Wackerlos next pathetically de-
scribes how he was robbed of a sausage, which the Tom-
cat vehemently declares was his.

Having heard the depositions of the Wolf, the Dog, the
Cat, the Panther, aud the Hare, Noble is about to sentence
the delinquent, when Grimbart, the Badger, — ^unele of
Reynard — rises to defend the accused. Artfully he turns
the tables and winds up his plausible peroration with the
statement that Reynard, repenting of all past sins, has
turned hermit, and is now spending his time in fasting,
alms-giving, and prayer !

Just as Noble is about to dismiss the case as non-proven,

" See the author's " Legends of the Middle Ages."
356

EPICS OF THE NETHERLANDS 357

Henning the Cock appeals, followed by his sons, who bear
on a litter the mangled remains of a hen, strangled by
Kejmard, who slipped into the chicken-yard in the guise of
a monk.

The king immediately dispatches Brown the Bear to
Malepartus to summon Reynard to appear at court. On.
arriving at his destination, the Bear, although still resent-
ing the king's recommendations to be wary, allows him-
self to be led to a half-split tree-trunk, within which Rey-
nard assures him he will find stores of honey to refresh
himself. Just as soon as the Bear's nose and forepaws are
greedily inserted into the crack, Reynard slyly removes the
wedges and decamps, leaving the Bear a prisoner and howl-
ing with pain.

His roars soon attract the peasant and his son, who
beat the captive until he wrenches himself loose, at the
cost of some patches of skin and of a few claws. The Bear,
returning to court in this plight, is taxed with stupidity
and greed, and Hintze the Cat is sent to sum m on Reynard
to court. The Cat, hungry also, is led to a small opening
in a barn which Reynard declares is swarming with mice,
but where the poor Tomcat is caught in a trap, whence he
escapes only after having received a beating and lost one
eye.

His woful report decides the king to send Grimbart the
Badger to summon his nephew to court. Reynard receives
this emissary most courteously, and, on hearing the king
will raze his fortress if he does not obey, sets out for court.
On the way Reynard begs Grimbart to act as his confessor,
and, having unburdened his conscience, does penance and
receives absolution. But scarcely has this ceremony been
completed when Reynard, spying some fat hens, begins to
chase them, and is only with difficulty recalled to a sense
of what is fitting.

On arriving at court, Reynard hypocritically regrets so
many people have slandered him to the king, and tries to
refute every charge. He is, however, sentenced to the gal-
lows, but even on the road thither devises a plan to escape.

358 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

Pretending regret for his past, he humbly begs the king's
permission to address the spectators, and in a lengthy speech
describes how he was led astray in his youth by Isegrim,
the Wolf. He also declares his only regret is to die before
he can reveal to the king the hiding-place of a vast treasure,
which would enable him to outwit the plots of some rebels
who are even now conspiring to kill him. The king, hear-
ing this, immediately orders a reprieve, and, questioning the
Fox in secret, learns that the conspirators are Brown the
Bear, Isegrim the Wolf, and others. To reward the Pox
for saving her husband's life, the queen now obtains his
pardon, which Noble grants ia exchange for information
in regard to the treasure.

Having given these indications, the Fox sets out on a
pilgrimage to Eome, escorted by the Ram and the Hare,
which latter is slain as soon as they arrive at Malepartus,
where Rejoiard wishes to bid his family farewell. After
feasting upon the flesh of this victim, Reynard puts his
bones into a wallet and ties it on the Ram's back, bidding
him hasten back to court with this present and receive his
reward! Although circumstantial evidence is enough to
convict the poor Ram of murder, a few days later new
complaints are made against Reynard by a Rabbit and a
Crow. Noble, roused again, prepares to batter down the
walls of Malepartus, and Grimbart,- perceiving Reynard's
peril, hurries off to give him warning.

He finds Reynard contemplating some young doves, upon
which he intends to dine. On hearing what Grimbart has
to say, Reynard declares it would be easy to acquit himself
could he only gain the king's ear long enough to explain the
real state of affairs. Then he again begs Grimbart to act
as his father confessor, and, resuming his confession where
he left off, makes a clean breast of all his misdeeds. Shortly
after this, Reynard meets the Ape, who tells him that
should he ever be in a quandary he must call for the aid of
this clever ally or of his wife.

At his second appearance at court, the Fox openly re-
grets there are so many vile people in the world ready to

EPICS OF THE NETHERLANDS 359

accuse innocent persons, and proceeds to set all his doings
in such a plausible light, that the king, instead of sentencing
him. again to death, allows him to settle his case by fighting
a judiciary duel with the Wolf. The preparations for the
duel are ludicrous because the Fox, advised by the Ape,
is shaven smooth, greased until too slippery to be held,
and duly strengthened by advice and potations. Blinded
by the sand continually whisked into his eyes by the Fox's
tail, unable to hold his all too slippery opponent, the
Wolf is beaten and the Fox acquitted by the Judgment
of God!

Although Noble now oflfers to make Reynard his privy
counsellor, the Fox returns home, where his admiring wife
and children welcome him rapturously.

In some versions of the tale Reynard further avenges
himself by suggesting, when the king is taken ill, that he
can be cured if he eats the head of a wolf just seven years
old, knowing the only wolf of that age is Isegrim, who
throughout the epic is fooled by the clever Fox, the hero
of endless adventures which have delighted young and old
for centuries.

SCANDINAVIAN EPICS

The different Scandinavian dialects formed but one
language mitil about 1000 A.D., when they split up into
two great groups, the East Northern including the Danish
and Swedish; and the West Northern including the Ice-
landic, Norwegian, and Faroese. Danish literature boasts
of some five hundred chivalric ballads (Kjaempeviser) , on
partly historical and partly mythical themes, which were
composed between the fourteenth and sixteenth centuries.
It was the Danish translator of the Bible who introduced
his countrymen to Charlemagne and Ogier, whose legends
received their finished forms at his hands. In 1555 Reynard
the Fox was translated into Danish from the French, in
1663 the Heimskringla from the Icelandic, but it was in
1641 that Arrebo composed the Hexaemeron or first real
Danish epic. In the nineteenth century Paludan Miiller
also wrote epics, which, however, are not very popular
outside of his country. The runes of Sweden bear witness
to the existence of sundry ancient sagas or epics which
perished when Christianity was introduced into the land.
In the Middle Ages, a gleeman at the court of Queen
Euphemia (1303-12) composed the Euphemiaviser, or ro-
mances of chivalry done into Swedish verse. The greatest
epic work of Sweden is, however, Tegner's Frithjof 's Saga
(1846), relating the adventures and courtship of an old
Scandinavian hero, a work of which a complete synopsis
is given in the author's Legends of the Middle Ages.

The elite of the Norwegians emigrated to Iceland for
political reasons during the twelfth and thirteenth cen-
turies. Owing to their geographical isolation and to the
long winters, these people were thrown entirely on their
own resources for amusement. The hours of darkness were
beguiled by tales and songs, so yo^ung and old naturally de-
lighted in the recitations of the skalds. This gave birth to
an oral literature of great value, and, although many of

360

SCANDINAVIAN EPICS 361

the works of the skalds have perished, the Icelanders fortu-
nately recovered in 1643,— after centuries of oblivion,—
the Elder Edda, an eleventh-century collection of thirty-
three poems on mythical and heroic subjects by Saemunt
the Wise.

There is also a similar work in prose known as the
Younger Edda, by Snorro Sturluson, which contains tales
of Scandinavian mythology, and this writer also collected
many of the old hero tales in his Heimskringla.

Many of the old sagas have been preserved in more or
less perfect forms. They are generally divided into three
groups, the first including sagas on historical themes, such
as the Egilssaga, the Eyrbyggjasaga, the Njalssaga, the
Laxdaelasaga, and the already mentioned Heimskringla.

The second, mythical, or heroic group comprises the
Grettis saga and the Volsunga, the finest of all the sagas
and one of the main sources of the Nibelungenlied and of
Wagner's Trilogy. This epic has been wonderfully ren-
dered in modem English by William Morris.

In the third and last group are massed together the
romantic epics, translations or imitations of the Latin,
French, and German epics and romances, relating to
Alexander, Charlemagne, Parsival, etc. The finest saga in
this group is the Gunnlaugssaga.

Norwegian literature goes back to the skald Bragi (c.
800), whose principal poem, Eagnarsdrapa, relates the
marvellous adventures of the national hero Ka,gnar Lodbrog.
This poem was incorporated by Snorro Sturluson in what
is known as the Snorro Edda. Most of the poems in the
Elder Edda are also of Norwegian origin, as well as Hvin 's
Haustlong or account of a famous warrior. In the thirteenth
century prose sagas were plentiful among the Danes, who
took special pleasure in the Thidrekssaga (1250), or life
and adventures of Dietrich von Bern; in the Karlamag-
nussaga, or story of Charlemagne ; and in the Barlaamssaga
ok Josaphats, or Hebrew tale of Barlaam and Josaphat.

Norway also possesses a rich fund of folk tales, which

362 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

have been collected by Asbjomsen, and which, having many
of the qualities of prose epies, have delighted many gen-
erations.

THE VOLSUNGA SAGA ^

The Second Part of the Edda contains the famous Vol-
sunga Saga, or Epic of the Volsungs, which has not only
given rise to the Nibelungenlied and to Wagner's famous
Trilogy of operas, but also to William Morris' Sigurd the
Volsung. The plot of this, the most characteristic and
famous of the Scandinavian sagas, is as follows :

Volsung, a lineal descendant from Odin, built his dwell-
ing around the trunk of a mighty oak, the Branstock, whose
branches overshadowed his whole dwelling. When Signy,
Volsung 's only daughter, was married against her will to
Siggier, king of the Goths, a one-eyed stranger (Odin)
suddenly appeared among the wedding guests, and thrust
a priceless sword (Balmung) deep into the bole of the
homestead oak. Before departing, as abruptly as he had
come, the stranger proclaimed the weapon should belong to
the man who pulled it out, and prophesied that it would
assure him the victory in every fight.

" Now let the man among you whose heart and hand may shift
To pluck it from the oak-wood e'en take it for my gift.
Then ne'er, but his own heart falter, its point and edge shall fail
Until the night's beginning and the ending of the tale." '

Although conscious that Odin had been in their midst,
Volsung courteously invited the bridegroom to try his luck
first, then himself attempted to draw out the divine sword,
before he bade his ten sons exert their strength in turn.
Only the youngest, Sigmund, was at last able to perform
the required feat, and when Siggier eagerly offered to pur-
chase his trophy from him, he firmly refused to part with
it. Full of anger at this refusal, the Goth departed on the
morrow, but although Signy loyally warned her kinsmen

" See the author's " Myths of Northern Lands."
"AH the quotations in this chapter are from Wm. Morris'
" Sigurd the Volsung."

THE VOLSUNGA SAGA 363

that her husband was plotting revenge, the Volsungs ac-
cepted his invitation to visit them soon.

When Volsung and his ten sons arrived ia Gothland,
Signy again bade them beware of coming treachery, but all
in vain. The brave Volsungs, drawn into an ambush by
their wily foe, were seized and bound fast to a fallen tree
in a lonely forest, where every night a wild beast, devoured
one of these helpless men. Closely watched by her cruel
husband, Signy could lend no aid to the prisoners, but when
none but Sigmund, the youngest, was left, she directed a
slave to smear his face with honey. The wild beast, attracted
by the sweet odor, licked the face of the last prisoner, who,
thus enabled to catch its tongue between his teeth, struggled
with the beast until his bonds broke and he was free !

When Siggier sent to investigate as usual the next morn-
ing, his messenger reported no prisoners were left bound
to the tree and that only a heap of bones was visible. Sure
his foes were all dead, Siggier ceased to watch his wife,
who, stealing out into the forest to bury the remains of her
kin, discovered Sigmund in a thicket, and promised to aid
him to obtain his revenge. To redeem this promise she
sent to her brother, one after another, two of her sons to
be trained as avengers, but, as both of these children proved
deficient in courage, she came to the conclusion none but a
pure-blooded Volsung would meet their requirements. To se-
cure an offspring of this strain, Signy, disguised as a gypsy,
secretly visited her brother's hut, and when their child, Sin-
fiotli, was older, sent him to Sigmund to foster and train.

With a youthful helper whom nothing could daunt, Sig-
mund, after achieving sundry adventures, lay in wait in
Siggier 's cellar, but, warned by two of his young children
that murderers were hiding behind his casks, Siggier had
them seized and cast into separate cells. There he decreed
they should starve to death. But, before their prison was
closed, Signy cast into it a bundle of straw, wherein she
had concealed Balmung, the magic sword. Thanks to this
weapon, Sigmund and Sinfiotli not only hewed their way
out of their separate prisons, but slew all the Goths who

364 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

attempted to escape from Siggier's dwelling, which, they set
aflame. But, although both proposed to save Signy, she
merely stepped out of the house long enough to reveal
Sinfiotli's origin and bade them farewell, ere she plunged
back into the flames !

And then King Siggier's roof-tree upheaved for its utmost fall,

And its huge walls clashed together, and its mean and lowly things

The fire of death confounded with the tokens of the kings.

A sign for many people on the land of the Goths it lay,

A lamp of the earth none needed, for the bright sun brought the day.

Feeling he had done his duty by avenging his father's
and brothers' death, Sigmund now returned home, where
in his old age he was slain in battle shortly after his
marriage to a young wife. Finding him dying on the
battle-field, this wife bore off the fragments of his magic
sword as sole inheritance for his child, whom she hoped
would prove a boy who could avenge him. One version of
the story relates that to escape the pursuit of Sigmund 's
foes this expectant mother plunged into the woods and
sought help and refuge in the smithy of Mimer, a magician
as well as a blacksmith. Here she gave birth to Sigurd,
who, as she died when he was bom, was brought up by
Mimer, who marvelled to find the boy absolutely fearless.

Another version claims that, discovered by a Viking,
mourning over her dead spouse, the widow was carried off
by him, and consented to become his wife on condition he
would prove a good foster-father to Sigmund 's child. In
this home Sigurd was educated by the wisest of men,
Regin, who taught him all a hero need know, and directed
him how to select his wonderful steed Grane or Greyfell (a
descendant of Odin's Sleipnir), from a neighboring stud.

Seeing the youth ready for adventure, Regin now told
him how the gods Odin, Hoenir, and Loki, wandering upon
earth in the guise of men, once slew an otter, which they
carried to a neighboring hut, asking to have its meat
served for their dinner. Their host, however, exclaiming
they had killed his eldesrt son who often assumed the form
of an otter, seized and bound them fast, vowing they

THE VOLSUNGA SAGA 365

should not be free until they gave as ransoni gol4 enough
to cover the huge otter-skin.

The gods, knowing none but a magic treasure would
suffice for that, bargained for the release of Loki, who
departed in quest of the dwarf Andvari, the collector of an
immense hoard of gold by magic means. As the wily And-
vari could not easily be found, it required all the astuteness
of the god of evil to discover him in the guise of a fish at the
source of the Rhine, and to catch him by means of the sea-
goddess' infallible net.

Having the dwarf in his power, Loki wrung from him
his huge treasure, his Helm of Dread, or cap of invisibility,
and even tore from his very finger a magic ring of gold,
thus incurring the dwarf's curse.

" For men a curse thou bearest: entangled in my gold.
Amid my woe abideth. another woe imtold.
Two brethren and a father, eight kings my grief shall slay;
And the hearts of queens shall be broken, and their eyes shall

loathe the day.
Lo, how the wilderness blossoms! Lo, how the lonely lands
Are waving with the harvest that fell from my gathering hands! "

Scorning this prediction, Loki hastened to the rescue of
his fellow-gods ; but, as the otter-skin stretched further and
further, it required not only all the treasure, but even the
helmet aad the serpent ring of gold, to cover it and thus
complete the required ransom.

The new owner of the treasure now gloated over his
gold until his very nature changed, and he was transformed
into a hideous dragon. One of his two remaining sons,
Pafnir, entering the hut, slew the dragon before he realized
it was his father, and then, fascinated by treasure and
ring, bore them off to a lonely heath, where in the guise
of a dragon he too mounted guard over them. This ap-
propriation of these treasures was keenly resented by his
brother Begin, who, unable to cope with the robber himself,
now begged Sigurd to help him. Like Mimer in the other
version of the tale. Begin was an experienced blacksmith,
but, notwithstanding all his skill, Sigurd broke every blade

366 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

he forged for this task. Finally the young hero hammered
out of the fragments of his dead father's blade a weapon
which sheared the anvil in two, and could neatly divide a
number of fleeces floating down a stream.

Properly mounted and armed, Sigurd was guided by
Eegin to the Glittering Heath, the place where Fafnir
guarded his gold. A one-eyed ferryman (Odin) conveyed
the youth across the river, advising him to dig a pit in
the track the dragon had worn in his frequent trips to the
river to drink. Hidden in this pit — ^the ferry-man ex-
plained— ^the youth could mortally wound the dragon while
he crawled over his head.

This advice being too pertinent to be scorned, Sigurd
faithfully carried out the plan and slew the dragon, whose
fiery blood poured down upon him and made every part
of his body invulnerable, save a tiny spot between his
shoulders, where a Hme-leaf stuck so closely that the dragon
blood did not touch the skin.

While Sigurd was still contemplating the fallen monster,
Eegin joined him, and, fearing lest he might claim part of
the gold, plotted to slay him. First, he bade Sigurd cut
out the heart of the dragon and roast it for him, a task which
the youth obediently performed, but in the course of which
he stuck a burnt finger in his mouth to allay the smart.
This taste of Fafnir 's heart blood then and there conferred
upon Sigurd the power to understand the language of some
birds near by, which exclaimed that Regin was coming be-
hind him to slay him with his own sword ! Enraged at such
ingratitude and treachery, Sigurd now slew Regin, and
after piling up most of the treasure in a cave, — ^where it
continued to be guarded by the dragon's corpse, — Sigurd
rode away, taking with him his sword, the magic helmet,
and the ring.

Still guided by the birds, Sigurd next rode up a moun-
tain, crowned by a baleful light, which he presently dis-
covered emanated from a fire forming a barrier of flame
around a fortress. Setting spurs to his divine steed, Sigurd
rode right through these flames, which then flickered and

THE VOLSUNGA SAGA 367

died down, and discovered in the centre of the fortress a
mound, whereon lay an apparently lifeless warrior. Using
his sword to cut the armor fastenings, Sigurd discovered,
beneath this armor, the Valkyr or battle-maiden Brynhild,
who, on recovering consciousness, hailed her return to life
and light with rapture and warmly thanked her deliverer.
Then the two, having fallen in love with each other at
first sight, explained to each other who they were; and
Sigurd, after relating his own origin and adventures,
learned that Brynhild, a Valkyr, having defied Odin by
saving a man he had doomed to death, had been condemned
to mate with any mortal who claimed her hand. Dread-
ing to become the prey of a coward, Brynhild implored
Odin to surround her with a barrier of fire which none save
a brave man could cross. Although a goddess, she admits
she loves her rescuer, and gladly accepts the magic ring he
tenders and promises to be his wife.

Then he set the ring on her finger and once, if ne'er again,

They kissed and clung together, and their hearts were full and fain.

The hero, however, doomed to press on in quest of
further adventures, soon left Brynhild in the castle where
he had found her, still protected by the barrier of flame,
and rode off to Burgundy, the land of the Niblungs. Here
reigned Guiki, whose fair daughter Gudrun once dreamt
that a falcon, after hovering for some time over her house,
nestled ia her bosom, which she soon beheld dyed red by
its life-blood. Disturbed by this ominous dream, Gudrun
visited Brynhild and besought her interpretation, only to
learn she would marry a king who would in time be slain
by his foes.

Shortly after this occurrence, Sigurd reached the land
of the Niblungs and challenged Gunnar, brother of Gudrun,
to fight. But, rather than cross swords with the slayer of
a dragon, Gunnar offered the stranger his hand in friend-
ship and sent for his sister to give him the cup of welcome.
While sojourning here with the Niblungs, Sigurd dis-
tinguished himself by athletic feats and, when war broke

368 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

out, by conquering their foes. These proofs of strength
and daring captivated the heart of Gudrun, who, seeing
Sigurd paid no attention to her, finally prevailed upon
her mother to give her a love potion, which she offered to
him on his return from one of his adventures.

He laughed and took the cup: but therein with the blood of the earth
Earth's hidden might was mingled, and deeds of the cold sea's birth.
And things that the high gods turn from, and a tangle of strange

love.
Deep guile, and strong compelling, that whoso drank thereof
Should remember not his longing, should cast his love away.
Remembering dead desire but as night remembereth day."

No sooner has this potion been quaffed than our hero,
utterly oblivious of earlier promises to Brynhild, sued for
Gudrun 's hand, and was promised she should be his bride
if he helped Gunnar secure Brynhild.

In behalf of his future brother-in-law — ^whose form he
assumed — Sigurd once more rode through the flames, and,
although haunted by vague memories of the past, wrested
from Brynhild the magic betrothal ring he had given her,
and claimed her as bride. Compelled by fate to wed any
man who rode through the flames to claim her, Brynhild
reluctantly obeyed Sigurd — ^whom she did not recognize —
and was duly married to Gunnar, king of the Niblungs.
But, on perceiving Sigurd at his court, she vainly strove
to make him remember her and his vows, and was filled
with bitter resentment when she perceived his utter de-
votion to Gudrun, his present bride.

Meantime, although Gunnar had secured the wife he
coveted, he was anything but a happy man, for Brynhild
would not allow him to approach her. Sigurd, to whom he
finally confided this unsatisfactory state of aiSairs, finally
volunteered to exert his fabulous srtrength to reduce to
obedience the rebellious bride, whom he turned over to his
brother-in-law in a submissive mood, after depriving her
of her girdle and ring, which he carried off as trophies
and gave to Gudrun.

Brynhild 's resentment, however, still smouldered, and

THE VOLSUNGA SAGA 369

■when Gudrun, her sister-in-law, attempted to claim prece-
dence when they were bathing in the river, she openly quar-
relled with her. In the course of this dispute, Gudrun
exhibited the magic ring, loudly proclaiming her husband
had wooed and won Gunnar's bride! Two distinct parties
now defined themselves at court, where Hogni, a kinsman
6f the Niblungs, vehemently espoused Brynhild's cause. By
some secret means — for his was a dark and tortuous mind,
ever plotting evil — Hogni discovered the trick of the magic
potion, as weU as Blrynhild's previous wooing by Sigurd,
and proposed to her to avenge by blood the insult she had
received.

According to one version of the tale, Hogni, who dis-
covers in what spot Sigurd is vulnerable, attacks him while
he is asleep in bed and runs his lance through the fatal
spot. The dying Sigurd therefore has only time to bid his
wife watch over their children ere he expires. By order of
Gudrun, his corpse is placed on a pyre, where it is to be
consumed with his wonderful weapons and horse. Just as
the flames are rising, Brynhild, who does not wish to sur-
vive the man she loves, either plunges into the flames and
is consumed too, or stabs herself and asks that her corpse
be burned beside Sigurd's, his naked sword lying between
them, and the magic ring on her finger.

" I pray thee a prayer, the last word in the world I speak.

That ye bear me forth to Sigurd and the hand my hand would seek;

\e bale for the dead is builded, it is wrought full wide on the plain,

'fe is raised for Earth's best Helper, and thereon is room for twain:

Ye have hung the shields about it, and the Southland hangings

spread.
There lay me adown b;^. Sigurd and my head beside his head:
But ere ye leave us s) 'iping, draw his Wrath from out the sheath.
And lay that Light of the Branstock and the blade that frigh.ted

Death
Betwixt my side and Sigurd's, as it lay that while agone.
When once in one bed together we twain were laid alone:
How then when the flames flare upward may I be left behind?
How then may the road he wendeth be hard for my feet to find*?
How then in the gates of Valhall may the door of the gleaming ring
Caash to on the heel of Sigurd, as I follow on my king? "

24

370 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

Another version of the tale relates that Sigurd was slain
by Hogni while hunting in the forest, as the story runs in
the Nibelungenlied. Next we are informed that the king
of the Huns demanded satisfaction from Gunnar for his
sister Brynhild's death, and was promised Gudrun's hand
in marriage. By means of another magic potion, Sigurd's
widow was induced to marry the king of the Huns, to whom
she bore two sons. But, when the effect of the potion wore
off, she loathed this second marriage and dreamed only of
avenging Sigurd's death and of getting rid of her second
spouse.

As in the Nibelungenlied, Atli invited her kin to Hun-
gary, where they arrived after burying the golden hoard
in a secret spot in the Rhine, a spot they pledged them-
selves never to reveal. Once more we have a ride to Hun-
gary, but Gudrun, seeing her husband means treachery,
fights by her brother's side. Throughout this battle Gunnar
sustains the courage of the Niblungs by playing on his harp,
but, when only he and Hogni are left, they are overpowered
and flung into prison. There Atli vainly tries to make
them confess the hiding-place of the hoard, and, hearing
Gunnar will not speak as long as Hogni lives, finally orders
this warrior slain and his heart brought into Gunnar 's
presence.

Convinced at last that the momentous secret now lies
with him alone, Gunnar flatly refuses to reveal it.

Then was Gunnar silent a little, and the shout in the hall had died,
And he spoke as a man awakening, and turned on Atli's pride.
" Thou all-rich King of the Fastlands, e'en such a man might I be
That I might utter a word, and the heart should be glad in thee,
And I should live and be sorry: for I, I only am left
To tell of the ransom of Odin, and the wealth from the toiler reft.
Lo, once it lay in the water, hid deep adown it lay,
Till the gods were grieved and lacking, and men saw it and the day:
Let it lie in the wa.ter once more, let the gods be rich and in peace!
But I at least in the world from the words and the babble shall
cease."

In his rage Atli orders the bound prisoner cast into a pit
full of venomous serpents, where, his harp being flung after

THE VOLSUNGA SAGA 371

him in derision, Gunnar twangs its strings with his toes
until he dies. To celebrate this victory, Atli orders a
magnificent banquet, where he is so overcome by his many
potations that Gudrun either stabs him to death with
Sigurd's sword, or sets fire to the palace and perishes with
the Huns, according to different versions of the story.

A third version claims that, either cast into the sea
or set adrift in a vessel in punishment for murdering Atli,
Gudrun landed in Denmark, where she married the king
and bore him three sons. These youths, in an attempt
to avenge the death of their fair step-sister Swanhild, were
stoned to death. As for Gudrun, overwhelmed by the
calamities which had visited her in the course of her life,
she finally committed suicide by casting herself into the
flames of a huge funeral pyre.

This saga is evidently a sun myth, the blood of the final
massacres and the flames of the pyre being emblems of the
sunset, and the slaying of Fafnir representing the defeat
of cold and darkness which have carried off the golden
hoard of summer.

Ye have heard of Sigurd aforetime, how the foea of God he slew;
How forth from the darksome desert the Gold of the Waters he drew ;
How he wakened Love on the Mountain, and wakened Brynhild the

Bright,
And dwelt upon Earth for a season, and shone in all men's sight.
Ye have heard of the Cloudy People, and the dimming of the day,
And the latter world's confusion, and Sigurd gone away;
Now ye know of the Need of the Nihlungs and the end of broken

troth,
411 the death of kings and of kindreds and the Sorrow of Odin

the Goth.

RUSSIAN AND FINNISH EPICS

There is strong evidence tliat the Finns, or some closely
allied race, once spread over the greater part of central
Europe. The two or more million Finns who now occupy
Finland, and are subject — ^much against their will — ^to the
Czar, are the proud possessors of an epic poem — ^the Kale-
vala — ^which until last century existed only in the memory
of a few peasants. Scattered parts of this poem were pub-
lished in 1822 by Zacharias Topelius, and Elias Lonnrot,
who patiently travelled about to collect the remainder, was
the first to arrange the 22,793 verses into 50 runes or cantos.
The Kalevala attracted immediate attention and has already
been translated into most modern languages. Like most
epics, its source is in the m3rthology and folk-lore of the
people, and its style has been closely imitated by Longfellow
in his Hiawatha. The latest English adaptation of this
great epic is Baldwin's "Sampo."

Although Russian literature is rich in folk poetry and
epic songs, none of the latter have been written down until
lately, with the exception of the twelfth-century Song of
Igor's Band. The outline of this epic is that Igor, prince
of Southern Russia, after being defeated and made pris-
oner, effected his escape with the help of a slave. Among
the fine passages in this work we note Nature's grief over
the prince's capture and the lament of his faithful consort.

It was only in the nineteenth century, after ZhukovsM
and Batyushkoff had translated into Russian some of the
world's great masterpieces, such as Tasso's Jerusalem De-
livered and Homer's Odyssey, that Pushkin wrote (1820) the
epic Ruslan and Lyudmila, drawing the materials therefor
from Russian antiquity and from popular legends.

There are in Russia and Siberia any number of epic
songs or "bylinas," dating from legendary times to the
present day, which have recently been collected by
Kireyevski and others, £Cnd which already fill some ten

372

THE KALEVALA 373

volumes. The heroes of these songs are either personifica-
tions of the forces of nature or favorite historical per-
sonages. They form great cycles, one clustering for in-
stance around Vladimir and the ancient capital of Russia,
Kiev, another around the free city of Novgorod, and a third
belonging to the later Moscow period. The principal hero
of many of the Russian folk tales, and of the epic songs
most frequently sung by wandering bards, is Ilya Muromets,
who nobly protects widows and orphans and often displays
his fabulous strength by reducing mighty oaks to kindling
wood with a few blows !

THE KALEVALA, OR THE LAND OF HEROES

The national epic of the Finns was rescued from oblivion
by Topelius and Lonnrot, two physicians, who took it down
from the mouth of the people and published it in the first
half of the nineteenth century. It consists in 22,793 lines,
divided into fifty runes, and is considered by a great
German authority — Steinthal — as one of the four great
national epics of the world.

Not only does it relate "the ever-varying contests be-
tween Finns and Laplanders," but that between Light and
Darkness, Good and Evil, for in the poem the Fions per-
sonify Light and Good, whUe the Lapps are emblems of
Darlmess and Evil. The Sampo, which is mentioned in
this poem, and which seems to have been some sort of a
magic grist-mill, holds the same place in Finn mythology
as the Golden Fleece in that of the Greeks. Many of the
poems incorporated in this epic date back some three thou-
sand years, and the epic itself is composed in alliterative
verse, although it also contains rhythm of line and sound,
as the following introductory lines prove.

Mastered by desire impulsive.
By a mighty inward urging,
I am ready now for singing,
Ready to begin the chanting
Of our nation's ancient folk-song

374 THE BOOK OP THE EPIC

Handed down from by-gone ages.
In my mouth the words are melting.
From my lips the tones are gliding.
From my tongue they wish to hasten;
When my willing teeth are parted.
When my ready mouth is opened,
Songs of ancient wit and wisdom
Hasten from me not unwilling.*

The proem then invites all people to listen to legends of
by-gone times and to the teachings of the wizard Waina-
moinen, to admire the works of Ilmarinen and the doings
of Youkahainen in the pastures of the Northland and in
the meads of Kalevala. It adds that these runes were
caught from the winds, the waves, and the forest branches,
and have been preserved in the Northland ever since.

Bune I. In the first rune we are informed that Ilmater,
daughter of the air, weary of floating alone in space, finally
descended to ther ocean, where she was rocked in the cradle
of the deep seven hundred years. She made use of this
time to create, out of the eggs of .a wild duck, the canopy
of the heavens, and the spherical earth, with its islands,
rocks, and continents. At the end of these seven hundred
years, Ilmater gave birth to Wainomoinen, having waited
all this time to be delivered of him, and having vainly
called all living creatures to her aid. After coming into
the world; this wonderful child floated about on the ocean
eight years, and then drew himself up on a barren promon-
tory to admire the sun, moon, and starry skies.

Bune II. After Hving alone for some time on this
promtontory or island, Wainamoinen summoned PeUer-
woinen, "first-bom of the plains and prairies," and bade
him scatter broadcast seeds for the trees which were destined
to clothe both vales and hillsides. In a twinkling of an
eye, every variety of forest growth waved its branches
hither and thither, and, although Wainamoinen rejoiced to
see the forest, he soon discovered that the oak, the "tree
of heaven," was lacking in it. Because the oak still slept

'All the quotations in this chapter are from Crawford's trans-
lation of the " Kalevala."

THE KALEVALA S75

within an acorn, Wainamoinen wondered how to conjure
it out of its hiding-place, and, after consulting five water-
maidens, called the giant Tursus out of the depths of the
ocean. After burning the hay the water-maidens raked
together, this giant planted in the ashes an acorn, which
quickly sprouted, and whence arose a tree of such mighty
proportions that its branches hid the rays of the sun and
blotted out the starlight.

Terrified by what he had done, Wainamoinen wondered
how to get rid of the oak, and implored his mother to send
some one to help him. Immediately there rose from the
sea a pygmy, armed in copper, whom Wainamoinen deemed
incapable of coping with so large a tree, until the dwarf
suddenly transformed himself into a giant of such propor-
tions that four blows from his copper axe felled the oak,
scattering its trunk to the east, its top to the west, its
leaves to the south, and its branches to the north. The
chips from the fallen oak were collected by a Northland
maiden to make enchanted arrows for a magician, and the
soil it overshadowed immediately began to bear vegetation
of sundry kinds.

Gazing at this new growth Wainamoinen discovered
every kind of seed sprouting there save barley. Soon after
he found seven grains of this cereal on the sea-shore and
consulted the birds how best to plant them. They advised
him to fell the forests, bum the branches, ajid plant the
barley in the land thus cleared. While obeying these
directions in the main, Wainamoinen allowed the birch to
stand, declaring there must be some place where the cuckoo
and the eagle could build their nests. These two birds,
greatly pleased by this attention, watched Wainamoinen as
he sowed his seed, and heard him chant a prayer to Ukko,
Father of Heaven, to send down rain to help it germinate.
This prayer was answered to such good purpose that eight
days later Wainamoinen found a crop of barley ready to
harvest, and heard the cuckoo's notes as it perched in the
birch trees.

376 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

" Therefore I have left the biroh-tree.
Left the birch-tree only growing.
Home for thee for joyful singing.
Call thou here, O sweet-voicied cuckoo.
Sing thou here from throat of velvet.
Sing thou here with voice of silver.
Sing the cuckoo's golden flute-notes;
Call at morning, call at evening.
Call within the hour of noontide,
For the better growth of forests.
For the ripening of the barley,
For the richness of the Northland,
For the joy of Kalevala."

Bune III. In the beautiful Land of the Heroes — ^Kale-
vala— Wainamoinen sang songs so wonderful that their
fame spread northward to the land of the Lapps, and
prompted Toukahainen to journey southward and challenge
the "ancient minstrel" to a singing contest. In vain
Toukahainen 's parents strove to dissuade him from this
undertaking ; the bold youth harnessed his sledge and drove
rapidly southward, colliding with Wainamoinen, who was
also out in his sledge that day. Although "Wainamoinen
was modest, his opponent was boastful and boldly proposed
they show their skiU by singing. Invited to sing first,
Wainamoinen chanted a set of commonplace axioms; but
when Toukahainen imitated him, the ancient minstrel chal-
lenged his guest to sing of creation or philosophy. Although
Toukahainen now claimed he and seven other primeval
heroes saw how the earth was fashioned, how the sky was
arched, and how the silvery moon and golden sun were set
in position, Wainamoinen termed him prince of liars and
averred he was not present at the creation as he claimed.
This contradiction so enraged Toukahainen that he offered
to fight, but, instead of accepting this challenge, Waina-
moinen sang a magic song of such power that it resolved
Toukahainen 's sled and harness to their primitive compo-
nents, and caused him to sink ever deeper into quicksands
which finally rose to his very lips. Realizing his desperate
plight, Toukahainen implored Wainamoinen to cease his
enchantments, offering as a ransom for his life all manner
of magic gifts which Wainamoinen scorned. In fact, it

THE KALEVALA S77

was only when the culprit promised him the hand of his
sister Aino that the ancient minstrel reversed his spell, and
not only released Youkahainen, but restored to him all his
possessions.

The defeated bard now returns to Lapland, and on arriv-
ing there smashes his sledge in token of anger. His parents
wonderingly question him, and, on learning he has promised
his sister's hand in marriage to the magician Wainamoinen,
they are delighted that she should marry so influential a
man, although the maiden herself mourns because all pleas-
ures are to be taken from her forever.

Bune IV. While out in the forest gathering birch shoots
for brooms, this maiden soon after is seen by Wainamoinen,
who bids her adorn herself for her wedding, whereupon she
petulantly casts off the ornaments she wears and returns
home weeping without them. When her parents inquire
what this means, Aino insists she will not marry the old
magician, until her mother bribes her by the offer of some
wonderful treasures, bestowed by the Daughter of the Sun
and Moon, and which until now have been hidden in the
depths of the earth.

Although decked in these magnificent adornments, the
girl wanders around the fields, wishing she were dead, for
marriage has no attractions for her and she is not anxious
io become an old man's bride. Stealing down to the sea-
shore, she finally lays aside her garments and ornaments
and swims to a neighboring rock, where she no sooner
perches than it topples over, and she sinks to the bottom
of the sea ! There Aino perishes, and the water is formed
of her blood, the fish from her flesh, the willows from her
ribs, and the sea-grass from her hair! Then all nature
wonders how the news of her drowning shall be conveyed
to her parents, and when the bear, wolf, and fox refuse
to transmit so sad a message, the sea-maidens depute the
hare, threatening to roast him unless he does their bidding.

Learning her daughter has perished thus miserably, the
mother of Aino recognizes that parents should not compel
daughters to marry against their will.

378 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

"Listen, all ye mothers, listen.
Learn from me a tale of wisdom:
Never urge unwilling daughters
From the dwellings of their fathers.
To the bridegrooms that they love not.
Not as I, inhuman mother.
Drove away my lovely Aino,
Fairest daughter of the Northland."

Her sorrow is such that three streams of tears flow from
h3r eyes and, increasing as they flow, form cataracts, be-
tween which rise three pinnacles of rock, whereon grow
birches, upon which cuckoos forever chant of "love, suitors,
and consolation!"

Biine V. The news of Aino's death travels swiftly
southward, and Wainamoinen, hearing that his bride has
perished, is plunged in grief. When he seeks consolation
from the water-maidens they bid him go out fishing. After
angling for many a day, he finally secures a salmon, larger
and more beautiful than any fish ever seen before. He is
opening his knife to cut the salmon open, when it suddenly
springs back into the deep, saying it was Aino who had come
to join him but who now escapes in punishment for his
cruelty. Not discouraged by this first failure, Wainamoinen
fishes on, until the spirit of his mother bids him travel north-
ward and seek a suitable wife among the Lapps.

" Take for thee a life companion
From the honest homes of Suomi,
One of Northland's honest daughters;
She will charm thee with her sweetness.
Make thee happy through her goodness.
Form perfection, manners easy.
Every step and movement graceful,
Full of wit and good behavior.
Honor to thy home and kindred."

Bune VI. Preparing for a journey northward, Waina-
moiaen bestrides his magic steed, and galloping over the
plains of Kalevala crosses the Blue Sea as if it were land.
The bard Youkahainen, foreseeing his coming, lies in wait
for him and prepares arrows to shoot him, although his
mother warns him not to attempt anything of the kind.

THE KALEVALA 379

It is the third poisoned arrow from Youkahainen's bow
which strikes Wainamoinen's horse, which immediately
sinks to the bottom of the sea, leaving its rider to struggle
in the water some eight years. Meantime Youkahainen
exults because his foe is dead, although his mother insists
her son has merely brought woe upon the earth.

Bune VII. Instead of treading the waves, Waina-
moinen swims about until an eagle — grateful because he
left birch-trees for birds to perch upon — swoops down, in-
vites him to climb upon its back, and swiftly bears him to
the dismal northland Sariola. There Wainamoinen is dis-
covered by the Maid of Beauty, who sends her mother, tooth-
less Louhi, to invite him into the house, where she bounti-
fully feeds him. Next Louhi promises to supply Waina-
moinen with a steed to return home and to give him her
daughter in marriage, provided he will forge for her the
Sampo, or magic grist-mill. Although Wainamoinen can-
not do this, he promises that his brother, the blacksmith
Ilmarinen, shall forge it for her, and thus secures the prom-
ise of the hand of the Maid of Beauty. This bargain made,
Wainamoinen drives away in a sledge provided by his
hostess, who cautions him not to look up as he travels along,
lest misfortune befall him.

Bune VIII. Instead of obeying these injunctions,
Wainamoinen gazes upward on his way home, and thus
discovers the Maid of Beauty, or Maiden of the Rainbow,
weaving "a gold and silver air-gown." When he invites
her to come with him, she pertly rejoins the birds have in-
formed her a married woman's life is unenviable, for wives
"are like dogs enchained in kennel." When Wainamoinen
insists wives are queens, and begs her to listen to his
wooing, she retorts when he has split a golden hair with an
edgeless knife, has snared a bird's egg with an invisible
snare, has peeled a sandstone, and made a whipstock from
ice without leaving any shavings, she may consider his
proposal.

These impossible tasks are quickly accomplished by the
wizard, but, while filling the Rainbow Maiden's last order —

380 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

to fashion a ship out of her broken spindle — ^Wainamoinen
accidentally cuts his knee so badly that the blood flows so
fast no charm can stop it. In vain different remedies are
tried, in vain Wainamoinen seeks help at sundry houses,
the blood continues to pour out of his wound until it looks
as if he would die.

Bune IX. Wainamoinen finally enters a cottage where
two girls dip up some of his blood, and where an old man
informs him he can be healed if he will only "sing the
origin of iron." Thereupon Wainamoinen chants that
Ukko, Creator of Heaven, having cut air and water asunder,
created three lovely maidens, whose milk, scattered over the
earth, supplied iron of three different hues. He adds that
Fire then caught Iron, and carried it off to its furnace,
where Hmarinen discovered a way to harden it into steel
by means of venom brought to him by the bird of Hades.

This song finished, the old man cheeks the flow of blood,
and sends his daughters to collect various herbs, out of which
he manufactures a magic balsam which cures the cut im-
mediately.

Bune X and XI. Wainamoinen now hastens back to
Kalevala and interviews his brother Hmarinen, who refuses
to journey northward or to forge the magic Sampo. To in-
duce the smith to do his will, Wainamoinen persuades him
to climb a lofty fir-tree, on whose branches he claims to
have hung the moon and the Great Bear. While Hmarinen
is up in this tree, the wizard Wainamoinen causes a violent
storm to blow his brother off to the Northland, where, wel-
comed by Louhi, Hmarinen sets up his forge, and after four
days' arduous work produces the magic sampo.

" I will forge for thee the Sampo,
Hammer thee the lid in colors,
From the tips of white-swan feathers.
From the milk of greatest virtue.
From a single grain of barley, ^

From the finest wool of lambkins.
Since I forged the arch of heaven.
Forged the air a concave cover.
Ere the earth had a beginning."

THE KALEVALA 381

The sorceress is so pleased with the Sampo— by means
of which she daily grinds out treasure,, untold — that, after
hiding it away safely in a mountain, she authorizes
Ilmarinen to woo the Maid of Beauty, who assures him also
she never will marry. Saddened by this refusal, Ilmarinen
longs for home, whither he is wafted in Louhi's magic boat
of copper.

Meanwhile Wainamoinen has been building a magic boat
in which to sail northward. He is aided in this work by
Lemminkainen, who, seeing the Maid of Beauty, boldly kid-
naps her. But the maiden consents to be his spouse only
if he will promise never to fight, a pledge he readily gives
in exchange for hers to forego ail village dances. These
vows duly exchanged, the young couple are united, and all
goes well as long as both scrupulously keep their promise.

Bune XII. The time comes, however, when Lemmin-
kainen goes fishing, and during his absence his wife secretly
attends a village dance. When the husband returns, his
sister informs him his bride has broken her promise, where-
upon Lemminkainen vows it is time he too should break
his, and, harnessing his sleigh, starts off for Lapland to
fight. On arriving there he enters sundry houses, and
finally meets in one of them a minstrel, whose song he
roughly criticises. Then, seizing the man's harp, Lemmin-
kainen chants all sorts of speUs, until ail present are under
their influence save a blind shepherd, whom Lemminkainen
allows to go, and who hastens down to the River of Death,
declaring he wiU there await the singer's arrival.

Bunes XIII and XIV. Lemminkainen now asks Louhi
for her second daughter, whom she refuses to give him,
declaring that after deserting her first daughter he can
obtain her second only by catching the wild moose ranging
in the fields of Hisi (Death), by bridling his fire^breathing
steed, and by killing with his first arrow the great swan
swimming on the River of Death. The first two tasks,
although bristling with difSculties, are safely accomplished
by Lemminkainen, but when he reaches the River of Death,
the blind shepherd— who is lying there in wait for him —

THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

ruthlessly slays him, chops his body into pieces, and casts
them into the stream.

Bune XV. After vainly awaiting Lemminkainen's re-
turn, his aged mother, seeing blood drip from his hair-brush,
concludes evil must have befallen her son. She therefore
hastens northward, and threatens to destroy Louhi's magic
Sampo unless the sorceress will reveal what has become of
Lemminkainen. Louhi then confesses that she sent him
down to Hades to hunt the Death swan, so Lemminkainen 'g
mother hastens down to the Eiver of Death, only to learn
her son has perished. Hastening back to the blacksmith
Ilmarinen, the frantic mother beseeches him to make her a
rake with a handle five hundred fathoms long, and armed
with this implement begins to dredge the river. Presently
she fishes out one by one the garments and various frag-
ments of her son! Thanks to powerful incantations she
restores Lemminkainen to life, speech, and motion, where-
upon the youth thanks her, and graphically relates how he
came to his death. But, although he is home once more,
Lemminkainen is always thinking of the beautiful maiden
he wooed, and he still longs to kill the swan swimming on
the River of Death !

Bunes XYI and XVII. Leaving Lemminkainen, the
poem now relates how Wainamoinen built a boat, asking
the God of the Forest to supply him with the necessary
material for its different parts. When questioned, the trees
one after another declare they are unfit for ship-building,
until the oak proffers its strong trunk. Wainamoinen now
constructs his vessel, but discovers he lacks three "master
words" to finish it properly. After vainly seeking these
words among birds and animals, he crosses the River of
Death in a boat, only to find the magie formula is unknown
even to the angel of Death ! The words are, however, well
known to Wipunen, a giant of whom he goes in quest. Pry-
ing open the monster's lips to force him to speak, Waina-
moinen stumbles and accidentally falls into the huge maw
and is swallowed alive. But, unwilling to remain indefi-
nitely in the dark recesses of the giant's body, Waina-

THE KALEVALA 383

moinen soon sets up a forge in the entrails of the colossus,
thus causing him such keen discomfort that the monster
proposes to eject his guest, who flatly refuses to be dislodged
until he learns the magic words. Having thus cleverly se-
cured what he is seeking, Wainamoinen returns home and
completes a boat, which proves self-propelling, and speedily
bears him to the Northland to woo the Maiden of the
Eainbow.

Thus the ancient Wainamoinen
Built the boat with magic only,
And with magic launch^ his vessel.
Using not the hand to touch it.
Using not the foot to move it.
Using not the knee to turn it.
Using nothing to propel it.
Thus the third task was completed.
For the hostess of Pohyola,
Dowry for the Maid of Beauty
Sitting on the arch of heaven.
On the bow of many colors.

Bune XVIII. Wainamoinen 's departure in the magic
vessel is noted by Ilmarinen's sister, who immediately in-
forms her brother a suitor is starting to woo the girl he
covets. Jumping into his sled Ilmarinen drives off, and
both suitors approach the maiden's dwelling from differ-
ent points at the self-same time. Seeing them draw near,
the witch Louhi bids her daughter accept the older mam —
because he brings a boat-load of treasures — and to refuse
the empty-handed youth. But the daughter, who prefers
a young bridegroom, declares that the smith who fashioned
the incomparable Sampo cannot be an undesirable match.
When Wainamoinen therefore lands from his ship and in-
vites her to go sailing with him, she refuses his invitation.
Heavy-hearted, Wainamoinen is obliged to return home
alpne, and, on arriving there, issues the wise decree that old
men should never woo mere girls or attempt to rival young
men.

Rune XIX. In his turn Ilmarinen now woos the Rain-
bow Maiden, and is told by Louhi that ere he can claim
his bride he must plough the serpent-field of Hades, bring

384 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

back from that place the Tuoni-bear safely muzzled, and
catch a monster pike swimming in the Eiver of Death.
Helped by the Maiden of the Rainbow, Ilmarinen accom-
plishes these three difScult feats, by first forging the plough,
noose, and fishing eagle required.

Bunes XX, XXI, XXII, XXIII, and XXIV. Now ex-
tensive preparations are made for the marriage of Ilmarinen
and the Maiden of the Rainbow. Not only is the mighty ox
of Harjala slain and roasted, but beer is brewed for the first
time in the Northland, and many verses are devoted to
describe the processes by which this national drink was
brought to its state of perfection ! When at last Ilmarinen
appears to take away his bride, the Rainbow Maiden seems
unwilling to go, and objects that a wife is her husband's
slave, and has to spend all her days in pleasing him, his
father, and his mother. Although her lament is touching
iadeed, the bride-advisor directs her to please her new
relatives, admonishes Ilmarinen to treat her kindly, and
watches the two set off, the Rainbow Maiden shedding bitter
tears at leaving her beloved home.

Bune XXV. The bride and bridegroom are next warmly
welcomed by Ilmarinen 's family, old Wainamoinen himself
singing at their bridal feast, and again instructiag the
bride to be all love and submission and to expect nothing
save bitterness and hardship from marriage. Having con-
eluded his song by praising the father who built the house,
the inother who keeps it, and having blessed bridegroom
and bride, Wainamoinen departs for the Land of the Dead,
to borrow an auger to repair his sled, which has fallen to
pieces while he sang.

Bune XXVI. Meanwhile Lemminkainen, angry because
he alone has received no invitation to the wedding banquet,
decides, in spite of his mother's advice, to go forth and
take his revenge. Although he has to overcome a flaming
eagle, pass through a pit of fire, slay a wolf and a bear, and
destroy a wall of snakes mounting guard at the entrance of
Lapland before he can reach his destination, his spells and
incantations safely overcome these and other dire perils.

THE KALEVAIA 385

Bunes XXVII and XXVIII. Reaching Northland at
last, Lemminkainen slays the husband of Louhi, from whom
he escapes before she can attack him. His mother now
warns him his foes will pursue him and advises him to go
to the Isle of Refuge, situated in the centre of the Tenth
Ocean, and abide there for three years, pledging himself
not to fight again for sixty summers.

BuTie XXIX. We now have a description of the Isle
of Refuge, where Lemminkainen tarries three whole years
with the sea-maidens, who bid him a tender farewell when
he sails away again. He has, however, proved neglectful
toward one of them, a Spinster, who curses him, vowing he
will suffer many things in return for his neglect. True to
her prediction, he encounters many dangers on the home-
ward journey, and finds his house reduced to ashes and his
parents gone ! But, although he mourns for them as dead,
he soon discovers them hiding in the forest, to escape the
fury of the Lapps.

Bune XXX. To punish these foes Lemminkainen now
sets out for the north, taking with him Tiera, hero of the
broadsword, who is to help him. Aware of his coming,
Louhi bids her son Frost stop them by holding their vessel
fast in the ice, but Lemminkainen trudges over the ice,
hurls the Frost-God into the fire, and, somewhat discour-
aged, returns home.

Bunes XXXI, XXXII, and XXXIII. During this time
a slave, KuHerwoinen, the son of Evil, has been sold to
Ilmarinen to serve as his shepherd. The Rainbow Maiden
therefore sends him forth with her cattle, giving him a loaf
of bread as sole sustenance. When the son of Evil attempts
to cut this bread, he breaks his knife, for the housewife has
baked a flint-stone in it. In his anger the shepherd con-
jures up wolves and bears, which devour the cattle, and
which he drives home in their stead after dark. When the
Rainbow Maiden therefore unsuspectingly tries to milk
them, she is instantly devoured by these wild beasts.

Bunes XXXIV and XXXV. Having thus effected his
revenge, the Spirit of Evil hurries away to his tribe-folk,

25

THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

who bid him perform sundry tasks, in the course of which
he crowns his evil deeds by assaulting a sister who was lost
in infancy, and whom he therefore fails to recognize. On
discovering the identity of her ravisher, the unhappy girl
throws herself into the river, where she perishes.

Eune XXXVI. Forbidden by his mother to commit
suicide in punishment for his crime, Kullerwoinen decides
to seek death on the field of battle. Although the various
members of his family see him depart without regret, his
mother assures him nothing can destroy her love for her
son.

" Canst not fathom love maternal,
Canst not smother her affection;
Bitterly I'll mourn thy downfall,
I would weep if thou shouldst perish,
Shouldst thou leave my race forever;
I would weep in court or cabin.
Sprinkle all these fields with tear-drops.
Weep great rivers to the ocean.
Weep to melt the snows of Northland,
Make the hillocks green with weeping.
Weep at morning, weep at evening.
Weep three years in bitter sorrow
O'er the death of Kullerwoinen! "

Kullerwoinen, armed with a magic sword, does great
slaughter among his foes, and returns home only to find aU
his kin have perished. While he mourns their death, his
mother's spirit bids him follow his watch-dog — the only
living creature left him. During this strange promenade,
coming to the spot where he assaulted his sister, Kuller-
woinen falls upon his magic sword and dies, an episode
which inspires Wainamoinen with these words of wisdom:

" If the child is not well nurtured.
Is not rocked and led uprightly.
Though he grow to years of manhood.
Bear a strong and shapely body.
He will never know discretion.
Never eat the bread of honor.
Never drink the cup of wisdom."

Eune XXXVII and XXXVIII. Meantime Ilmarinen,
after grieving three months for the loss of the Rainbow
Maiden, proceeds to fashion himself a wife out of gold and

THE KALEVALA 387

silver, but, as she is lifeless and unresponsive, he offers her
to Wainamoinen, — ^who refuses her, — ^and travels north-
ward once more to woo a sister of his former bride. On
arriving at Louhi 's house, — ^undeterred by many evil omens
which have crossed his path, — ^Ilmarinen sues for a bride.
Louhi reproaches him for the treatment her first daughter
has undergone, but, although the second maiden refuses to
foUow him, he boldly carries her off by force. She is, how-
ever, so unhappy with him that the blacksmith finally
changes her into a sea-gull.

" I have changed the hateful virgin
To a sea-gull on the ocean;
Now she calls above the waters.
Screeches from the ocean-islands.
On the rocks she calls and murmurs.
Vainly calling for a suitor."

Bunes XXXIX, XL, and XLI. To comfort himself,
Ilmarinen concludes he would like to have the Sampo,
and persuades Wainamoinen and Lemminkainen to accom-
pany him northward to get it. This time they sail in a
magic ship, which is stranded on the shoulders of a huge
pike. Wainamoinen kills this fish, and from its bones and
sinews fashions the first harp, an instrument so wonderful
that none but he can play it, but, whenever he touches its
strings, trees dance about him, wild animals crouch at hia
feet, and the hearts of men are filled with rapture.

All of Northland stopped and listened.

Every creature in the forest,

All the beasts that haunt the woodlands.

On their nimble feet came bounding,

Came to listen to his playing,

Came to hear his songs of joyance.

The music which he makes is so touching that it draws
tears even from the player's eyes, tears which drop down
into the sea, where they are transformed into pearls, which
are brought to him by a duck.

Gathered Wainamoinen's tear-drops
From the blue sea's pebbly bottom.
From the deep, pellucid waters;

388 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

Brought them to the great magician.
Beautifully formed and colored.
Glistening in the silver sunshine.
Glimmering in the golden moonlight.
Many-colored as the rainbow.
Fitting ornaments for heroes,
Jewels for the maids of beauty.
This the origin of sea-pearls
And the blue-duck's b^uteous plumage.

Runes XLII and XLIII. Having lulled the Spirits of
Evil to sleep with magic music, Wainamoinen and Ilmarinen
go iu quest of the Sampo, which they find hidden in the
bosom of a magic mountain and bear away in triumph. The
spell they have laid upon aU living creatures is broken only
when Louhi discovers her loss and sets out in pursuit of the
robbers of her treasure.

In various guises she attacks them, finally transf ormiag
herself into a huge eagle and pouncing down upon the
Sampo, which she tries to bear away in her talons. But
Wainamoinen fights this aggressor to such good purpose
that it drops the Sampo into the sea, where it is dashed to
pieces ! Not only has Wainamoinen lost the Sampo, — ^whose
fragments he collects and buries so that they may bring
prosperity to his people, — ^but his magic harp has also fallen
overboard during his fight with Louhi.

Runes XLIY and XLV. Wainamoinen therefore pro-
ceeds to construct a second harp from the wood of the
birch, while Louhi, who has returned northward but who
stiU owes him a grudge, sends down from the north nine
fell diseases,— colic, pleurisy, fever, ulcer, plague, con-
sumption, gout, sterility, and cancer, — all of which Waina-
moinen routs by means of the vapor baths which he
discovers.

Rune XLVI. Hearing that Wainamoinen prospers in
spite of all she can do, Louhi is so disappointed that she
sends a magic bear to devour him and his brother. But,
hearing this monster is coming, Wainamoinen directs the
blacksmith to make him a wonderful spear, with which he
slays the bear, whose skin and flesh prove a boon to his
people.

THE KALEVAIA 389

Bums XLYII and XLVIII. Still angry, Louhi steals
from Wainamoinen the sun, moon, and fire, and thus all the
hom^ in Kalevala are cold, dark, and cheerless. Gazing
downward, Ukko, king of the heaven, wonders because he
sees no light, and sends down a flash of lightning, which,
after striking the earth, drops into the sea and is swallowed
by a pike. This fiery mouthful, however, proves so un-
comfortable, that the fish swims madly around until swal-
lowed by another. Learning that the fire-ball is now in a
pike, Wainamoinen fishes until he secures that greedy
denizen of the deep. Opening Ms quarry, he seizes the
lightning, which burns his fingers so badly that he drops it,
until he decides to convey it to his people in the wood of
an elm.

Bune XLIX. Although fire is thus restored to mankind,
the sun and the moon are still missing. Ilmarinen there-
fore forges a magnificent silver moon and golden sun, in the
vain hope of replacing the orbs which Louhi has stolen,
and which are hidden in the cave where she once treasured
the Sampo. Discovering this fact by magic means, Waina-
moinen starts out in quest of sun and moon, and, by chang-
ing himself into a pike to cross the river, reaches the land
of Louhi, defeats her sons, and finds the orbs he is seeking
guarded by a multitude of snakes. Although Wainamoinen
slays these keepers, he cannot recover the captive sun or
moon until Louhi, who has meantime assumed the form of
an eagle and then of a dove, sends them back to Kalevala,
where their return is hailed with joy.

"Greetings to thee, Sun of fortune j
Greetings to thee, Moon of good-luck;
Welcome sunshine, welcome moonlight;
Golden is the dawn of morning!
Free art thou, 0 Sun of silver,
Free again, O Moon beloved.
As the sacred cuckoo's singing.
As the ring-dove's liquid cooing.

"Rise, thou silver Sun, each morning.
Source of light and life hereafter.
Bring us daily joyful greetings.
Fill our homes with peace and plenty.

390 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

That our sowing, fishing, hunting.
May be prospered by thy coming.
Travel on thy daily journey.
Let the Moon be ever with thee;
Glide along thy way rejoicing,
End thy journeyings in slumber;
Best at evening in the ocean.
When thy daily cares have ended.
To the good of all thy people.
To the pleasure of Wainola,
To the joy of Kalevala! "

Bime L. Meanwhile there had been dwelling in the
Northland a happy maiden named Mariatta, who, wander-
ing on the hillsides, once asked the cuckoo how long she
would remain unmarried, and heard a magic voice bid her
gather a certain berry. No sooner had she done so than the
berry popped into her mouth, and soon after she bore a
child, which being the offspring of a berry was to be called
Flower. Because her mother indignantly cast her off, she
wandered about seeking a place where she could give birth
to her child. She was finally compelled to take refuge in
the manger of the fiery steed of Hisi, where her infant was
charitably warmed by the firesteed's breath. But once,
while the mother was slumbering, the child vanished, and
the mother vE^inly sought it until the Sun informed her she
would find it sleeping among the reeds and rushes in Swamp-
land.

Mariatta, child of beauty.
Virgin-mother of the Northland,
Straightway seeks her babe in Swamp-land,
Finds him in the reeds and rushes;
Takes the young child on her bosom
To the dwelling of her father.

Mariatta soon discovered him there, growing in grace and
beauty, but priests refused to baptize him because he was
considered a wizard. When Wainamoinen sentenced the
mother to death, the infant, although only two weeks old,
hotly reproached him, declaring that, although guilty of
many follies, his people have always forgiven him. Hear-
ing this, Wainamoinen, justly rebuked, baptized the child.

THE KALEVALA 391

who in time grew up to be a hero and became the greatest
warrior in the land.

Wainamoinen, having grown feeble with passing years,
finally built for himself a copper vessel, wherein, after sing-
ing a farewell song, he sailed "out into the west," and
vanished in the midst of the sunset clouds, leaving behind
him as an inheritance to his people his wondrous songs.

Thus the ancient Wainamoinen,
In his copper-banded vessel.
Left his tribe in. Kalevala,
Sailing o'er the rolling billows.
Sailing through the azure vapors,
Sailing through the dusk of evening.
Sailing to the flery sunset,
To the higher-landed regions.
To the lower verge of heaven;
Quickly gained the far horizon.
Gained the purple-colored harbor.
There his bark he firmly anchored,
Bested in his boat of copper;
But he left his harp of magic.
Left his songs and wisdom-sayings.
To the lasting joy of Suomi.

The poem concludes with an epilogue, wherein the bard
declares it contains many of the folk-tales of his native
country, and that as far as rhythm is concerned —

"Nature was my only teacher.
Woods and waters my instructors."

THE EPICS OF CENTRAL EUROPE AND OF
THE BALKAN PENINSULA

German being talked in a large part of Switzerland and
of Austria, theise countries claim a great share in the
Teutonic epics, many of whose episodes are located withia
their borders. Both the Swiss and the Austrian nations
are formed, however, of various peoples, so while some of
the Swiss boast of German blood and traditions, others
are more closely related to the French or to the Italians.
To study Swiss literature one must therefore seek its sources
in German, French, and Italian books. It is, though, con-
sidered very remarkable that there exists no great Swiss
epic on the deeds of William Tell, a national hero whose
literary fame rests almost exclusively upon folk-tales and
upon Schiller's great drama.^

No political division boasts of a greater mixture of races
and languages than the Austro-Hungarian empire, whose
literature is therefore like a many-faceted jewel. Aside
from many Germans, there are within the borders of the
empire large numbers of Czechs or Bohemians, who in
the thirteenth century delighted in translations of the
Alexandreis, of Tristram, and of other epic poems and
romances, and whose first printed volume in 1468 was a
reproduction of the Trojan Cycle.

There are also the Hungarians, whose literary language
continued to be Latin until after the Reformation, and
whose earliest epics treat of such themes as the "Life of
St. Catherine of Alexandria." It was, therefore, only in
the seventeenth century that Zrinyi, Gyongyosi, Liszti, and
other poets began to compose Magyar epics which roused
their countrymen to rebel against their foes, the Turks. In
the nineteenth century patriotism was further fostered
among this people by the stirring epics of Czuczor, Petofi

'■ See the author's " Legends of Switzerland."
392

CENTRAL EUROPE AND BALKAN EPICS 393

(whose masterpiece is Janes Vilez) , and of Vorosmarty, and
then, too, were compiled the first collections of genuine
Hungarian folk-tales. Among these the adventures of the
national Samson (Toldi) have served as basis for Arany'a
modem national epic in twelve cantos.

Part of Poland being incorporated in the Austro-Hun-
garian empire, it cannot be amiss to mention here the fact
that its literature is particularly rich in folk-tales, animal
epics, apologues, religious legends, and hero tales, although
none of the poetical versions of these works seem to be of
sufficient weight or importance to require detailed treat-
ment in this volume.

With the exception of ancient Greece, — ^whose epic litera-
ture is so rich and still exerts such an influence as to demand
separate treatment, — there do not seem to be any epics of
great literary value among the various races now occupying
the Balkan Peninsula. Old Rumanian literature, written
in the Slavic tongue, boasts a few rhymed chronicles which
are sometimes termed epics, while modem Rumanian prides
itself upon Joan Delaemi's locally famous Epic of the
Gypsies.

In Servia one discovers ancient epic songs celebrating
the great feats of national heroes and heroines, and relating
particularly to the country's prolonged struggle for inde-
pendence. After translating the main works of Tasso from
the Italian for the benefit of his countrymen, one of their
poets — Gundulitch — composed a twenty-canto epic en-
titled Osman, wherein he described the war between the
Poles and Turks in 1621. The Servian dramatist Palmotitch
later composed the Christiad, or life of Christ, and in the
nineteenth century Milutinovitch wrote a Servian epio,
while Mazuranie and Bogovitch penned similar poems in
Croatian. As for the Bulgarians they do not seem to have
any epic of note.

Turkish literature having been successively under
Persian, Arabic, and French influence, has no character-
istic epics, although it possesses wonderful cycles of fairy-

394 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

and folk-tales, — material from which, excellent epics could
be evolved were it handled by a poet of genius. The Asiatic
part of Turkey being occupied mainly by Arabians, who
profess the Mohammedan religion, it is natural that the
sayings and doings of Mohammed should form no small
part of their literature. The most important of these col-
lections in regard to the Prophet were made by al-Bukhari,
Muslem, and al-Tirmidhi.

HEBREW AND EARLY CHRISTIAN EPICS

JOB

The Book of Job ranks as "one of that group of five
or six world poems that stand as universal expressions of
the human spirit." For that reason it is considered the
representative Hebrew epic, and, as it depicts the conflicts
of a human soul, it has also been termed the "epic of the
inner life."

Written after the exile, — ^probably in the latter part of
the fourth century B.C., — ^it incorporates various older
poems, for the theme is thought to antedate the Exodus. In
the prologue we have a description of Job, a model sheik
of the land of Uz, whose righteousness wins such complete
approval from God that the Almighty proudly quotes his
servant before his assembled council as a perfect man.
"The Adversary," Satan, now dramatically presents him-
self, and, when taunted by God with Job's virtues, sar-
castically retorts it is easy to be good when favored with
continual prosperity.

Thus challenged, and feeling sure of his subject, God
allows Satan to do his worst and thus test the real worth of
Job. In quick succession we now behold a once happy
and prosperous man deprived of children, wealth, and
health, — ^misfortunes so swift and dire that his friends in
lengthy speeches insist he has offended God, for such trials
as his can only be sent in punishment for grievous sins.
The exhortations of Job's three argumentative friends, as
well as of a later-comer, and of his wife, extend over a
period of seven days, and cover three whole cycles; but,
in spite of all they say. Job steadfastly refuses to curse
God as they advise.

Unaware of the Heavenly council or of the fact that he
is being tested. Job, in spite of trials and friends, patiently
reiterates "The Lord gave and the Lord hath taken away,"

S95

396 THE BOOK OF THE EPIC

and, when Ms wife bids him curse God and die, pathetically
inquires, "What! shall we receive good at the hand of
God, and shall we not receive evil?"

There are, besides, whole passages in this book where Job
gives way to his overwhelming grief, these laments being
evidently either fragments from another, older version of
the story, or tokens that even such fortitude as his gave
way under pressure of disease and of his friends' in-
judicious attempts at consolation. These laments exceed
in pathos any other Hebrew poem, while Job 's descriptions
of God's power and wisdom attain to a superbly exalted
strain.

Having silenced Zopher, Eliphaz, and Bildad, by assur-
ing them he will be vindicated in heaven, — ^if not sooner, —
Job watches them and his last friend depart, and is finally
left alone. Then only, and in an epilogue, we are informed
that, having thus been tried in the furnace of affliction
and proved true gold, Job receives from God, as reward,
a double measure of health, wealth, and descendants, so
that all men may know h